


A Price for Peace

by IdrilsSecret



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1738715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrilsSecret/pseuds/IdrilsSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adopting a puppy seemed like an innocent thing to do, but it led to an invitation for misfortune, and Erestor must face his past and the choices he made. COMPLETE</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Erestor and Glorfindel were visiting the town of Bree. Glorfindel had a bit of trading business with the local men there, and Erestor decided to join him. It had been many years since the counselor visited the town, and it did not take him long to remember why. Bree was a trading town, and many types of characters dwelled there. Most were honest hard working men, but some were a bit too shady. While Glorfindel was used to dealing with the type, Erestor stayed clear of them. He didn’t like having to constantly look over his shoulder, nor did he like confrontation. He was, however, a good negotiator when the situation was legitimate, and found himself doing just that.

While Glorfindel dealt with the traders, Erestor happened upon a small, almost hidden store, wedged between a butcher and a tailor’s shop. It looked as though the alley between the two bigger stores had been bricked up and a wooden door put in place for entry. There was no sign, just the words, ‘Oswin’s Archives’, etched into the thick oak door. The light of a lantern flickered through a half moon window about eye level on the door. Erestor tried the handle and found it unlocked, so he slowly opened it.

“Hello, are you open for business?” he called before he entered.

There was a scrambling of papers and the sound of a chair scooting away from a desk. Someone made mumbling noises and out popped a rather short plump man wearing thick brown robes, rough worn shoes with holes in the toes, and a funny looking wooly brown cap on his bald head.

“Good day, my sir,” the man called towards the door without looking, as he fumbled with a stack of yellowed parchments on his desk. “And what might you be needing on this very fine day?”

Erestor glanced over his shoulder, out at the wet street. Today was anything but fine. It had rained most of the night, leaving the streets puddled and muddy. The air was heavy with moisture and there hadn’t been any sun in three days to dry everything out.

He turned back to the storeowner and cleared his throat. “Well, if this is a very fine day, I would hate to see what a bad day looks like.”

The storeowner chuckled. “Any day that a patron frequents my establishment is a good day. I don’t get many a customer, you see.” He paused and shook his head slowly back and forth. “There is not much need for literature in Bree … unfortunately.”

“It was an unexpected find on my part as well,” Erestor said with a smile, and he extended his hand. “I’m Erestor, Chief Counselor to Lord Elrond of Rivendell.”

The little man’s eyes lit up as he gave Erestor his hand to shake. “Oh my, it is an honor to be sure, my sir, to have an elf amongst us, and one of great importance to boot. I am Oswin … as you might have noticed on my door.”

Erestor shook hands and smiled most graciously, “An elf I am for sure, but one of great importance … I believe that title would go to my companion, Lord Glorfindel.”

“I know of Lord Glorfindel. He has done plenty of business in Bree, but not once has he visited my store. Not a literary man then?” Oswin asked as one brow arched in question.

Erestor laughed to himself. “No, I’m afraid he takes a more … hands on approach. He hasn’t the patience as those of us who enjoy a good read.”

“Oh, such a shame then,” the shop keeper said disappointedly, “Well, that leaves more for you and me, doesn’t it?” He brightened instantly and bid Erestor to follow him into the store, “So, are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Actually, I wasn’t looking at all. I happened upon your shop quite by accident. Perhaps advertising of some sort would bring in more customers.”

“Ho … I’m lucky to have this small space. You see, I am a great collector of books, and when my home became too cluttered, I had to find room elsewhere. The larger shops were either occupied or too costly for a man such as myself, but when I heard of the quarrel between Hobbs and Brown, I knew I’d found my place.”

Erestor cocked his head to the side in curiosity. “Hobbs and Brown?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know about it I suppose,” the chubby owner explained. “Hobbs is the tailor and Brown is the butcher, and the argument between them started over a woman.”

“Say no more,” said Erestor, “Wars have been waged all because of the admiration of a woman.”

“War, yes, you could say that. Hobbs and Brown were business partners at one time, until they were both swept off their feet by the lady Belamine.” Oswin paused. “I beg your pardon, I haven’t considered that you might be in a hurry, and here I am rambling on.”

“I have plenty of time. I came here with Lord Glorfindel, and he is off tending to business. Please go on. This sounds like a fascinating story,” replied Erestor.

Oswin smiled and waved Erestor over to his desk. “Since you’ll stay, would you care for some tea? It’s a special blend with a bit of spice. I hope you don’t mind spice.” The storeowner retrieved two cups from a nearby shelf, and placed them on the desk where a black teapot sat on a warmer, steam rising from its spout.

“Sounds delicious, if you have a bit of honey?” asked Erestor, settling down onto a plush chair next to the desk.

“Of course I have honey,” Oswin said as he pushed a little honey pot towards Erestor. “The best thing in tea if you ask me.”

Oswin poured the tea and fixed his the way he liked it after Erestor was comfortable. “Now then, where was I? Oh yes … the Lady Belamine, lovely to look at, but a bit prone to overdramatizing to gain attention.”

“And expensive taste from what you’ve said,” Erestor added.

Oswin chuckled with a hearty ‘ho ho’ and continued. “Very perceptive of you. Yes, Belamine liked the finer things to be sure. I suppose that’s what got my neighbors into trouble. You see, she was looking to marry the man who could provide for her the best, and since they were partners, they shared their wealth. At the time, they dealt in common trade, anything from herbs to costly jewels. One month business might be up, and the next it might be down. That’s how the quarrel started you know. They were each trying to outdo the other man, and whoever was performing the best was obtaining the attention of Lady Belamine. Eventually, the men broke off their partnership, and they opened their own separate businesses. Brown became a butcher and Hobbs became a tailor. They split the shop right down the middle by erecting a wall to separate the two stores, but it was still too close for comfort. They eavesdropped through the adjoining wall, especially when Lady Belamine came to visit. There were more arguments and more disagreements between them, so much so that they were losing customers, and their businesses began to suffer. It would have been the end of them both if I hadn’t come along, and suggested that they each give up a little space and make a buffer between the two stores. Then, I offered to rent the space between, on the grounds that my books would block out any sound between them. I gave them what rent I could afford. The space was just big enough for my collection, and Hobbs and Brown could no longer listen in on each other, allowing them each the space and privacy they needed to court the Lady Belamine.”

Erestor was enjoying the story and the tea. Oswin was a charismatic man, a nice change from the everyday things and people of Rivendell. He carefully sat his cup on the desk and leaned forward. “And whatever happened to the Lady Belamine? Who did she finally choose, Hobbs or Brown?”

“Neither,” Oswin chuckled, his cheeks quite plump and pink as he went on. “The Lady Belamine caught the attention of the blacksmith across the street, Alden Foss … the best smithy in town, and done well for himself too. Belamine started spending her time there whenever Hobbs and Brown started ranting with each other. Alden wasted no time, and they married not long after,” the man said matter of fact.

Erestor and Oswin shared in a laugh at the finish of the story and the tea. As enjoyable as it was, this was a business and surely Oswin had things to do, Erestor thought. And there was no telling how long Glorfindel might be. If he was successful, it wouldn’t take long.

“So you say you are a collector?” Erestor asked.

“I’ve been compiling books for thirty years now, some rare, some not so rare. If there’s something you are looking for, chances are I will have it.”

Erestor and Oswin discussed their personal collections and the things that were missing from them. It turned out that Erestor had a book of elven lore that Oswin had been searching for, and Oswin had a manuscript written by a scribe from Dale of the accounts of the dragon Smaug and the attack on the old city.

“He saw it first hand, mind you, so what is written is actual proof, not just hyped faerie tales. It’s one of a kind,” said Oswin. “There’s even scorch marks on a few of the papers.”

Erestor was having fun negotiating for this rare document, but he knew he would have to trade for more than just elvish lore. “I will make a deal with you. In addition to the book you inquire about, I’ll let you have something very unique, and like your manuscript, there is no other like it. I happen to have a document written in the early Third Age, by a squire named Ohtar.”

Oswin suddenly became very serious and business like, “Ohtar … scribe to Isildur?”

“The very same, yes. You recall the Battle of the Gladden Fields, when Isildur was attacked by orcs and tragically slain?” Erestor spoke with a hushed voice, as though someone might be listening.

“I have heard the tales. It was fought under the eaves of Greenwood the Great. Not many survived. Ohtar was one of the few, only because he was commanded to seek refuge in Rivendell, and with him, Narsil … Isildur’s father’s sword,” Oswin answered in his own quiet voice.

Erestor leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands folded, “It took Ohtar months to reach Rivendell, and this document tells of all the dangers he encountered along the way.”

Oswin’s mouth opened in amazement, “Oh, now that is a special piece of history, and I bet not many know of it.”

“Almost no one, but I found it one day, while rifling through some old archives in Lord Elrond’s libraries. Ohtar wrote about his experiences with no intention of passing it on to anyone. I can’t be sure why, maybe to cleanse his mind. He mentioned reoccurring nightmares in one of the documents. It was a very trying and horrid experience for him. He was lucky to make it to Rivendell.”

Oswin leaned back in his chair, and rested his folded hands on his round belly. He twiddled his thumbs, taking a moment to think about his prospected trade. “So, you would part with this document in exchange for the Dale manuscripts?”

“And the book of elvish lore,” added Erestor.

“Seems a fair and easy trade,” Oswin answered.

Erestor leaned back in his chair now, and stretched his long legs out before him. “I am a simple elf, Oswin, and you seem an honest man.”

They worked out the details of the trade. Erestor would send someone to Bree with the book and documents, and bring back the Dale manuscripts. Perhaps he would send Canyo, his apprentice. He was a very eager ellon, always ready to carry out any task.

Once finished with the arrangements, Oswin chuckled and his belly bounced. “I’d make all my business with the elves if I could. Genuine folk you all are, easy to deal with, and always ready with an entertaining story or song.”

“Perhaps you will come to Rivendell one day, and bring your books. I think you would find business quite agreeable there.”

“Oh, now that would be a treat. I would truly appreciate a tour of Lord Elrond’s libraries,” said Oswin, fascinated with the idea.

“I will personally be your guide,” Erestor said as he stood from his comfortable chair. “This has been a most enjoyable time, but I’m afraid I must be going. Lord Glorfindel will be finishing his business soon, and then we will be on our way.”

Oswin wiggled up from his slouched position and got to his feet. “It has been a great joy for sure, Erestor. Please come back and visit me again, and I promise to try to come to Rivendell. It would be an honor to see the hidden city of Imladris.”

“Come when you are able. You have a standing invitation,” said Erestor, and shook hands with Oswin before leaving the bookstore.

* * *

The rain was gone for good it seemed, as the sun was peeking through breaks in the clouds. Perhaps it would be a nice day after all, Erestor thought to himself. He smiled as his next thought went to the short stout bookstore owner, Oswin. What an enjoyable time Erestor had had with him. It was always good to meet another book enthusiast, especially one willing to trade.

As he walked along, something dashed across his path, almost tripping him. He looked down and didn’t see anything. Then he felt his long robe being tugged from behind. Erestor turned to find a small puppy with the embroidered edge of his fine blue robe clamped tight in its mouth.

“Hey!” he said in a demanding tone, and tried to pull his robe away, but the little brown ball of fluff was having none of it. The tiny dog bounced backwards, growling and shaking its head, refusing to release Erestor’s clothing.

“Go find a rabbit to chase, and leave my robe alone,” Erestor complained. He looked up and down and across the street, hoping to see the puppy’s owner, but no one seemed to be paying him any attention or coming to his rescue. He crouched down and gently pulled his robe and the puppy along with it until the fur ball was within reach. Erestor picked it up, and the dog released the robe, its mouth open, tongue curled, and panting. It was very comical looking, as if it were laughing.

“Think it’s funny do you?” Erestor said, and the puppy wiggled in his arms until it was close enough to lick his face. He laughed and scratched it behind its floppy ears. Then he stood up, taking the puppy along with him. Erestor held it around the chest and extended his arms. The little dog’s hind legs dangled limply, but its tail wagged rapidly back and forth.

Erestor examined the pup. “Well, you’re a girl I see. That explains the mischief.”

The puppy wriggled wildly, and Erestor put her down before he dropped her. “So where is your family?” He glanced around the street again, hoping to find someone, but with no luck.

The pup stood up on her back legs and pawed at Erestor’s shins, making a high pitched whimper that sounded just pitiful. “Oh no you don’t. I’m not falling for that act. You must have an owner somewhere close by, or at least a mother and your other siblings. You don’t look as though you are starving.”

Just then, a wagon whizzed by, pulled by a large black workhorse with hooves that were as big as the small pup. The man in the wagon was yelling to the horse, making it trot along even faster. The horse’s feet and the wooden wagon wheels made an awful racket as they passed Erestor. Once they were by, he looked down to find the puppy missing, but something shivering against his ankle beneath his robes. He lifted it, and there was the little dog, quaking with fear, afraid of the giant horse and the loud man. Erestor reached down and picked her up, cradling the pup to his chest. He was immediately rewarded with sloppy wet kisses.

“You’re welcome, but I suggest you get used to it. There is a lot of traffic in Bree, especially if you choose to make the streets your home.” At that comment, the little brown pup cuddled her head on Erestor’s shoulder, and gave a deep relieving sigh in his ear. Erestor patted the puppy’s head and gave his own sigh. “Oh, you’re good aren’t you? I suppose you think you’ve won me over, and I will take you home, feed you, make a warm place for you to lay by the hearth, and give you a name. Well, think again. First of all, I do not live here, and second, the last thing I need is a pet.” As he talked, he felt the small body go limp as she went to sleep.

“I see you’ve made a new friend. Should I be jealous?”

Erestor spun around to see Glorfindel standing with his arms crossed, head tilted, and an irresistible smile that curled the corners of his mouth.

“And how long have you been watching me?” Erestor asked, keeping the excitement of seeing Glorfindel in check. It always gave him a thrill to know the elf lord was secretly watching him.

“Long enough to see that you will find it very difficult to put that little fellow down,” Glorfindel replied with a laugh.

“That fellow is a lady, and I can’t just leave her on the street. Maybe I should ask around in some of the shops, see if she belongs to anyone.”

Glorfindel walked up to Erestor and petted the pup. “I’d say she’s yours. Obviously she trusts you or she would not have fallen asleep in your arms so easily.”

“She was frightened,” Erestor rebutted. “And you know how often puppies sleep.”

Glorfindel reached out for the pup, and Erestor handed her over. “She’s very soft isn’t she?” said Glorfindel.

“Yes, she is.” Erestor caressed the furry paw, and the small toes stretched as the pup moaned in her sleep. A smile escaped the corner of Erestor’s mouth.

Glorfindel watched silently as Erestor’s hard exterior softened a bit, “We could take her back to Rivendell and—” the elf lord started to suggest when he was interrupted.

“Hey, Mister, have you seen—” A young boy emerged from an alleyway, pausing when he saw Erestor was an elf. “Oh, beg your pardon, Sir. I meant no disrespect.”

“None taken,” Erestor answered.

The boy saw Glorfindel holding the puppy. “I see you found her. She got away from me this morning, and I was afraid something terrible might have happened. She gets in trouble a lot.”

Erestor raised a speculative brow at Glorfindel. “Trouble you say? Just what I need.”

Glorfindel handed the puppy to the boy, and gave her one more rub behind the ear. “I was merely making a suggestion.”

The boy, seeing a possible chance for profit, spoke quickly. “I have a litter of six pups. If this one doesn’t seem to match your needs, perhaps one of the others will. They’ll grow up to be excellent hunting dogs … part of the hound family, I believe.”

Glorfindel got down on his knee, eye level to the boy. “Do you know what breed they are?”

“No, Sir. Found ‘em in the crawl space under an abandoned cabin not far from town. They were just weaned, lucky for them. Found their mother in the woods, or what was left of her. Wolves I think. Anyways, they were hungry … not knowing how to find food on their own yet. I brought them back here, fed ‘em, and now I’m looking for homes for them.”

“That was very noble of you,” said Erestor. “I’m sure your mother was pleased.” His tone was laced with sarcasm, but the boy frowned.

“I don’t have a mother. She died last year,” the boy answered sadly.

“And your father?” asked Glorfindel.

The boy shook his head. “He just never got over mum’s dying. I haven’t seen him in three months.”

“And what do you do for food and shelter?” asked Erestor, concerned.

“Oh, I’ve an uncle … well, that’s what I call him. He’s a friend of my pa’s. Set me up as best he could in his shed. It’s warm enough and there’s food. He leaves me some before he goes off to do the day’s work. That’s where the rest of the pups are, if you’re interested. I’ll sell one to you real cheap.” The boy stopped and turned his eyes to the ground at his feet. “I would give you one, but I’d like to help my uncle with my share of things. You know, for taking me in and all.”

The boy’s story was breaking Erestor’s heart, and when he glanced at Glorfindel, he could see the elf lord was affected too. Sterling blue eyes looked back at Erestor, pleading with him to take the pup and help the boy.

Erestor nodded and reached into a pouch that hung at his side. He pulled out a gold coin and handed it to the boy. The child smiled wide and started to hand the pup to Erestor. “She’s yours then, Sir, and I thank you very much.”

Erestor shook his head, and Glorfindel frowned. “I’m sure she is very sweet, but I really have no time for a pet right now. But you take the money and use it for you and your uncle … and the rest of the litter. Hopefully it will be enough until you can find good homes for them, and perhaps your father will return by then.”

“Thank you, Sir, that’s very kind. It will help us tremendously. Thank you, thank you,” said the boy excitedly.

The two elves watched the boy disappear down the street, the puppy bouncing along side. Then they turned and made their way to the stables to retrieve their horses and head back to Rivendell. As they went, Erestor could feel Glorfindel’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.

“What,” he finally said. “Do you think I made a bad decision to give the boy money? Do you think he made it all up?”

“No,” Glorfindel answered. “I do not doubt his story, but I doubt your decision not to take the pup.”

Erestor made a face. “Why are you so insistent about it?”

“I saw you Erestor. You fell for that little bundle as soon as you picked her up. And you have an uncanny need to take care of things. You would have made a good father,” Glorfindel chuckled.

Erestor huffed and walked a little faster, but Glorfindel’s long strides kept pace with him. They reached the stables in silence, mounted their horses and prepared to leave, but Glorfindel stopped them. “Are you sure you don’t want the dog?”

Erestor set his face like stone and answered. “I’d rather adopt the boy. At least I could put him to work.” His features softened, and he allowed a smile to escape. “Alright, I’ll admit that for a mangy, undernourished, furry ball of fleas, she was very sweet, and I’m sure she’ll make a good companion … for someone else.”

A mischievous looked crossed Glorfindel’s face. “Good, that’s all I wanted to hear you say.” With that they set a course for Rivendell.


	2. Chapter 2

After returning to Rivendell, Erestor found the documents he meant to trade, and settled on a competent messenger to deliver them to Oswin, the book merchant in Bree. The more he thought about it, the more he began to second-guess his decision to trade these one of a kind papers. They were written by Ohtar himself, after escaping the battle at Gladden Fields, and bringing the broken blade, Narsil, to Rivendell for safekeeping. Though the documents were never on display, Erestor always thought they paired with the blade, and both had resided in Rivendell for countless years. Of course, in recent years the broken blade had been remade, renamed, and claimed by King Elessar. Its new home now being in Gondor, the documents no longer resided with the sword.

“The exchange is just as valuable,” Erestor reasoned with himself. “Another one of a kind document, and the accounts of the destruction of Dale.” He sat down at his desk, and ran a hand over the ancient parchments. “No, it was a good trade, but I will need to copy them. They won’t be of any value, but at least the documentation will still be available in the archives.”

Erestor was deep into his work, and didn’t notice when Glorfindel entered his office until the flame of his candle flickered wildly. He looked up from his writing to see Fin with his lips puckered and gently blowing, his breath caressing Erestor’s face. The counselor smiled and set his quill into its stand. “You are a lovely sight for these tired eyes.”

“You’ve been busy for hours. What are you doing?” asked Glorfindel, as his eyes scanned the paper.

“I decided to make a copy of Ohtar’s manuscript before sending it to Oswin, just to keep some kind of record of the events here in Elrond’s libraries. It’s what any good scribe would do.”

Glorfindel moved around behind Erestor’s chair, and began rubbing his shoulders. Erestor closed his eyes and relaxed. Fin’s fingers worked like wizard’s magic at relieving tension. He let his head fall forward as Glorfindel released the knots of the counselor’s tired neck.

“It is not good to sit in one position for too long,” said Glorfindel, his voice hinting on seductiveness.

Erestor played along, “What other position would you have me sit then?”

Glorfindel released a low rumble from his throat that tickled Erestor’s ear. “Well, the possibilities are endless. Always best to choose the most effective.” He took Erestor’s chin in his fingers and tilted his head up, kissing the counselor thoroughly until they both let out a moan. Then Glorfindel released his lover and studied him with smiling eyes.

“I know I’ll regret saying this,” said Erestor. “But I really mustn’t stop writing. The messenger will be here first thing in the morning, and it will take me most of the night to finish this.”

“About that,” said Glorfindel, taking one of Erestor’s braids between his fingers. “I just received word that one of my connections in Bree has had a change of heart. While we were there, the trade did not go through, but he has reconsidered. It is really a matter I must see to in person, and since I have to go to Bree, I thought that I would take your documents for you instead of a messenger.”

“You would do that for me?” Erestor sounded surprised.

“There is not much I would not do for you, Meldanya.”

Erestor’s heart swooned at the mention of the endearment. “So there is something then that you would not do no matter how hard I tried to convince you?”

Fin laughed. “Even a balrog slayer has his limits.”

“Not very many,” Erestor added as an afterthought. As he reached for his quill, Glorfindel stopped him. Erestor watched as the strong warrior fingers intertwined with his own.

“And since there is no need for a messenger, then there is no need to keep writing tonight. I am not leaving until the day after tomorrow,” Glorfindel whispered, and then he gently bit the tip of Erestor’s ear.

Erestor closed his eyes and let the other seduce him. It would not be a difficult thing to accomplish tonight. Fin had Erestor’s body thrumming as soon as he acknowledged his presence in the office. The counselor stood from his chair and turned towards Glorfindel. His arms wrapped around the warrior’s fit waist, and they kissed demandingly.

“Let’s go home,” Erestor said desperately, but Fin shook his head.

“No, I cannot wait, and besides, you’ve got me so worked up, I can barely walk.”

Erestor gave a huffed laugh. “You got yourself worked up. I’ve done nothing to you … yet.”

“Mmph, you always do something to me, you just don’t know it,” Glorfindel admitted.

Erestor released his hold, and took Glorfindel’s hand instead, pulling him towards the door of the office. “Come on. Let’s get going.”

Glorfindel did not budge. “I said I can’t wait. I want you here … now.” Intense blue eyes deepened to a dark indigo, and stared straight through to Erestor’s soul.

As badly as he wanted Glorfindel in that moment, Erestor was never one to give in easily, and liked to make the elf lord work for his prize. “This is my office, Glorfindel, where I entertain rulers of men and High Elves. It would not be appropriate.”

“No one will ever know except us, and I’d like to watch you squirm as you draw up an image of us the next time someone of such great importance is visiting. So, where shall I make that impression upon you, hmm? Perhaps your desk? Yes, I think that will do just fine.”

Erestor could see that Glorfindel was very persistent. There would be no escape from his cajoling this time, but Erestor was not through testing the ever-growing sexual tension in the room. He glanced at the closed door of his office, “Someone might walk in.”

“I’ve locked the door,” Glorfindel answered quickly.

“Canyo might come looking for me with a question of some kind.”

“I’ve sent him home for the remainder of the night.” Glorfindel closed the distance, and forced Erestor to back into his desk.

Erestor looked over his shoulder at the clutter of objects, just as Glorfindel began assaulting his neck with urgent nibbles. “But wait … give me a moment to make room.”

“Can you never be spontaneous, Erestor?” Glorfindel said with irritation.

Erestor spoke from the corner of his mouth, as though someone might hear what he had to say. “You know how things get when we … umm hmm. I’ve worked too hard and too long on this to have it ruined.” He picked up the copy of the Ohtar documents and put them in a drawer. Then he picked up the original and smiled smartly. “These too. Don’t want anything to happen to them.”

Glorfindel stood silently and watched Erestor as he cleared a place on the desk. He may have looked calm, but Erestor could feel Fin’s impatience growing, and it was just what he wanted. The counselor took a sort of perverse joy from getting under Glorfindel’s skin.

A warm hard body contoured against Erestor’s back. “Ready?” Glorfindel asked.

Erestor started to nod, but noticed the bottle of ink was uncapped. “Oh … just … let me—” he said as he reached across the desk and fixed the black bottle with a cork. As he did, he made sure to stick out his arse, teasing Glorfindel. Erestor heard a long deep sigh of impatience behind him, and smiled while he stood up straight again.

“Alright, I think that will … Oh … the candle … I’ll just … well, don’t want to burn down the libraries,” Erestor said as he mercilessly provoked his gilded lover. He started to reach for the silver candleholder, but Glorfindel gently pushed him to the side.

“Let me,” Fin offered. He leaned forward and blew out the candle, but instead of moving it, he swept his muscled arm from one side of the desktop to the other, clearing it of all its contents. Everything flew off the desk with a clamber and a flutter. Then he grabbed Erestor and pulled him to his body, stripped him quickly of his robes, and pushed him onto the desk. Glorfindel undid his leggings, and pushed them down to his knees. He lifted Erestor’s legs over his shoulders, pulled a small bottle out from his jerkin, and prepared them both.

Erestor moaned as Glorfindel filled him, taking joy in the feel of the sudden invasion. He writhed enticingly as he adjusted to the elf lord’s girth, then they set their rhythm. The feeling was euphoric and he hadn’t noticed when Fin lowered his legs, which were now wrapped around his warrior lover’s waist.

Glorfindel’s body covered Erestor, and his hands reached up to grasp the edge of the desk above Erestor’s head. Fin pumped methodically, the new position allowing him to penetrate Erestor deep until the counselor was breathing heavy and calling out Glorfindel’s name. The evidence of his pleasure felt warm and slick between their bodies. The scent of Erestor’s joy enticed Glorfindel to release his own pleasure, flowing warm and deep inside Erestor. They kept this position until Glorfindel’s breathing was restored, and then he lifted himself.

Erestor moved with him until he was sitting on his elbows, legs still wrapped around Glorfindel’s waist, the two elven lovers still connected. The counselor huffed a breath that was partly a laugh. “I think you’re right, Fin. I’ll never be able to look across this desk without thinking of you.”

They separated and Glorfindel helped Erestor to sit up, then kissed him over nose, cheeks, eyelids and lips. “Good,” he said satisfied. “That was exactly my plan, just as yours was to drive me insane.”

“Well worth the wait though, wasn’t it?” Erestor chortled.

“Well worth every torturous moment.” Glorfindel stopped, looked down and away. Although the moment they just shared was blissful, there was something a bit off. Erestor almost seemed as though he was hiding something, but that was impossible. The two elves had been through so much. It was only a year earlier that their relationship was almost destroyed. But those responsible had all perished, and things were put right. Glorfindel and Erestor had spent the last year reaffirming their promise to each other, connecting through their bond. It had been a good year for both of them. Still, Glorfindel couldn’t ignore the impression he got sometimes, as if Erestor was keeping something from him. He looked straight into Erestor’s eyes, needing assurance. “Do you really know how much I love you, Counselor?”

“Yes,” Erestor answered automatically.

“Do you?” Glorfindel insisted as if he wasn’t convinced.

“I do, Glorfindel. I know everything about you, but more than that, I know the strength of your love. It fills my soul until I think I might float into the never-ending sky, and I know I cannot survive without it … without you.” Erestor cocked his head questioningly. “What’s the matter, Fin?”

Glorfindel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied Erestor’s face, searching his eyes and finding nothing that would expose a secret. He knew Erestor loved him. That was not up for debate. It was just a hunch, like a constant tapping that wouldn’t go away. Something was not quite right.

Perhaps it was a residual notion left from their trying experience with the Nazgûl and minds being controlled. Even Glorfindel still awoke in a sweat from the occasional nightmare when he relived that day in the prison house, when Fin allotted the mercy kill upon his ancient friend, Astarion. Erestor also suffered that day, as his friend and former apprentice, Lastar, died in his arms. Much blood was spilled that day, and it had taken months to get back to some kind of normalcy. The anniversary of that dark time was only a few weeks away. It was possible that Glorfindel was only experiencing the anxiety of remembering that time. At least that’s what he told himself, and he pushed it out of his mind like he usually did when doubt tried to cloud up his thoughts.

Finally, he smiled and cupped the counselor’s head in his hands, “I’m glad you know. Now … let us go home, and don’t even think about cleaning this up tonight. I’m not done with you yet, not until I have slowly savored you throughout the night.”

They dressed and straightened themselves as best they could, then got ready to leave Erestor’s office. Glorfindel exited first, followed by Erestor, but the counselor stopped, picked up the silver candleholder that was lying on the floor, and placed it silently on a nearby table. By the time Glorfindel started to turn around, Erestor was closing the door, satisfied at knowing he fixed at least one thing before he left. He smiled at Fin, pretending that he had been behind him the whole time.

Glorfindel rolled his eyes and laughed, “Some things never change.”

* * *

The days passed agonizingly slow for Erestor’s liking, but Glorfindel was finally returning from Bree. As excited as the counselor was to be reunited with his mate, he was just as excited to get his hands on those documents from Dale. He couldn’t wait to study them, to observe the ink strokes made by someone who had actually been there and witnessed the dragon’s destruction first hand. Each page would be like opening a gift.

Erestor was on his way to the dining hall for a bit of breakfast when Elladan fell into step next to him. “I hear Glorfindel comes back today,” said Elladan after he caught up to Erestor.

Erestor turned to the twin and arched a brow in question. “And how did you hear? I only received word a few moments ago from the messenger.”

Elladan gave him a crafty smile. “I intercepted the messenger before he arrived in the city, and convinced him to allow me a peek at the letter.”

“Convinced or blackmailed?” said Erestor speculatively.

“Let’s just say, I know a few things about Candor’s personal life that I’m sure he would not want made public knowledge.”

Erestor suddenly felt a presence at his side and turned to see Elrohir had joined them, “I hear Glorfindel—”

“Yes,” Erestor interrupted. “He returns today. Your brother just validated that information. I suppose you blackmailed the messenger to show you my letter also?”

Elrohir looked offended. “I would do no such thing,” he declared, and mirrored Elladan’s same devious smile from a moment before. “I blackmailed Elladan after I saw him parting company with Candor.”

Erestor couldn’t help but to shake his head and laugh.

“So, what do you think Glorfindel is bringing you?” Elrohir asked anxiously.

After all these countless years, Erestor should have been used to the twin’s meddling. They had always been this way. It was one of the reasons that Imladris was such a safe haven. If ever there was anything or anyone that threatened their home, Elrond’s sons knew first before anyone else. Their eyes and ears were always open. Erestor just wished they were not open to his own personal affairs.

Glorfindel had mentioned briefly in the letter that he had acquired something he thought would be of interest to the counselor. Erestor guessed it to be books of some sort, since he would be visiting the pleasantly plump bookstore owner on his behalf. Perhaps Oswin had suggested Glorfindel purchase something from his store. Erestor told the twins as much, but they seemed disappointed that it was not jewels or a new fine silk robe to add to the counselor’s wardrobe.

“Jewels are scarce in a place such as Bree, and I doubt there would be much need for elvish robes in the old human city,” Erestor reasoned.

“You are probably right then,” Elladan said. “Books, especially for you, Counselor.”

* * *

It was in the early afternoon hours, and Erestor was enjoying some quiet time at home. He had cleared his day in anticipation of Glorfindel’s return, and was sitting on his veranda enjoying a lovely tea with a floral bouquet. With his eyes closed and lounging on his favorite chaise, he drank in the sunlight filtering through the trees. Everything was so quiet and peaceful. His mind lingered on thoughts of Glorfindel, and how they would celebrate his return home. Erestor laughed to himself, “In that case, I might want to clear my schedule for tomorrow too.”

A gentle breeze blew through the veranda, carrying with it a sweet melody from a pair of songbirds nearby. Erestor smiled and sighed with content. The handle rattled on the front door and Erestor’s heart began to pound. He waited a moment, and then called out to his lover. “Glorfindel, you’re home … Oof!”

Something furry and a little heavy pounced on his stomach. It was not Glorfindel. Erestor opened his eyes and found himself staring into the bright brown eyes of the little dog with the ridiculous smile. Instantly his face was washed in dog saliva. “What!” he exclaimed, and a loud ‘woof’ drowned out his protests.

He managed to sit up and put the puppy on the floor. “Fin!” he yelled.

Glorfindel came around the corner of the veranda door, a smile just as ridiculous as the dog’s adorning his face. “Surprise,” he sang.

Erestor looked down at the panting pup. “Surprise indeed.” He looked back at his companion, “Glorfindel, what—”

“After I visited the bookstore—which, by the way, I happen to have your precious manuscripts right here—I happened upon the boy we met. He managed to find homes for all of the puppies except this one. Well, I should say he found her a home, but she would not stay there. She ran off several times, and made her way back to the boy. The people said they did not want a dog that ran away all the time.”

“And what made you think you should take her?” Erestor interrupted.

“Oh, she will not run from you, Erestor. She connected with you from the start. I think that is why she would not stay with anyone else,” said Glorfindel proudly.

Erestor was dumbfounded. He gazed down towards the pup again, finding her with her front paws on the edge of the table and her nose in his teacup, licking up the remains of his rosehip tea. He shook his head and stood from the chaise. “Fin, I told you before, I do not have time for a pet. Puppies are a lot of work, a lot of training, and a lot of patience, which I find myself in short supply at the moment.” He glowered at Glorfindel, but the elf lord ignored him.

“Do you question my judgment?” said Glorfindel sternly.

“Yes,” Erestor answered without hesitation.

The elf lord’s face softened as he approached his mate. “I know you said you did not want this, but I saw how you held her and comforted her when she was frightened. And I saw how relaxed she was in your keep. There is something special here, some kind of connection. She will listen to you, Erestor. She will be a good companion for you, especially during those times that I am away.”

“Away? What are you talking about? Are you planning to take up wandering again, like you did before we met?” Erestor asked warily.

“Of course not, but there are times when I must carry out errands that will take me far … times that you will not be able to go with me.”

“Uh huh, so are you saying that you do not think I can handle life in Rivendell without you? And so, you brought home a dog to help minimize my loneliness?” Erestor’s voice was hinting towards anger now.

“That is not what I’m saying at all,” Glorfindel said impatiently. “You like to take care of things. You take care of me all the time. Before we met, no one ever did the things you do for me. For instance, when I come home after a long day at the practice grounds, you always have a bath drawn, warm and ready for me to sink into. Or if I’ve been in meetings with Elrond for hours on end, you always have a plate sent to make sure I’ve eaten. I like that, Erestor, and I think you like doing it. So who will you take care of when I am away?”

Erestor was not mad anymore, and he could see Glorfindel’s point. He did enjoy fussing over Fin, mainly because he knew no one had ever done that for him. He had accomplished many important things in his long life, taken many risks, and put himself before others. Glorfindel deserved to feel the comforts of stability, and Erestor knew he could, at the very least, give that to him.

He looked at the pup again, who had found a leaf and was proudly carrying it around the veranda. Erestor smiled. “Well, I guess it is worth a try. And she is very charismatic.” Just as he finished saying this, the puppy stopped, dropped the leaf and assumed a crouching position, making a rather smelly mess on the floor. Erestor rolled his eyes and glared at Glorfindel.

The elf lord smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders, “She’ll learn.”

“She better,” Erestor answered annoyed.

“I’ll clean it up,” Glorfindel offered.

“You better,” Erestor threatened, and Fin hurried off to find a servant.

Erestor’s shoulders slouched as he shook his head. He sighed and went to his closet to find something to clean up the mess. “If he thinks this is how he is going to help, then he’s not as smart as I thought.”

The puppy came running up to him, grabbed his robe and started tugging aggressively. “Looks like I have two to train. First things first though.” Erestor picked up the dog, showing her the mess on the floor, “Bad dog,” he reprimanded and gave her a gentle swat on the behind. “Ai, what was I thinking to agree to this?”

The puppy, who had ignored her punishment, wagged her tail and licked Erestor’s cheek. He smiled in spite of himself. “Thank you for reminding me. Well, I hope you’re a quick learner, or you’ll find yourself back on the streets of Bree.”

He put the pup down and looked around his home. Erestor retrieved a pillow from his bedroom and placed it beside the fireplace, realizing he was doing all those things he said he would not do. “Only one thing left then … a name. Let me see.” He observed the dog for a few moments and then got an idea, “How about Léra? It’s short and easy to say. Yes, I think I like that name … Léra. Good, it’s settled then. Welcome to your new home, Léra. Now let’s find Fin with that servant. And then I’m going to swat his behind, which undoubtedly he will enjoy much more than you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Erestor was tired, very tired. He sat in his library, trying to write in his personal ledger, when Léra trotted in, crying and whimpering in her usual way.

“Not again,” Erestor complained. “I just took you to the courtyard moments ago. Be a good girl and go lay down. You’ll just have to wait.”

Léra unfortunately did not understand the word wait. She cried again and started walking in circles with her nose to the carpet. Erestor looked up just in time. “Ack, no!” he corrected, jumping up from his desk, and almost spilling the ink pot. He hesitated just long enough to save his papers from damage, giving Léra the opportunity to do what she needed to do on Erestor’s expensive rug.

“No, no, NO!” he shouted, but it was too late. Léra was already running off, and a fresh puddle replaced the spot where she just stood. “Glorfindel!” Erestor called, but there was no answer. He only half expected the elf lord to be within range to hear his voice.

Erestor retrieved a towel and proceeded to soak up the mess, crawling on hands and knees. “I should have known better than to give the servants the day off. Just once, I’d like to sit silently and do a little writing,” he muttered in complaint. When he was done, he discarded the towel and washed up in the basin. “You need something to take care of,” he said mocking Glorfindel’s voice. “You are so good at doing that.”

There was a knock at his door, and Erestor turned. “Glorfindel, if that is you, I swear I will–”

“Look who I found wandering the halls.” It was not Glorfindel, but rather Elladan come for a visit. Following him into the library was Léra. “My, she has grown by leaps and bounds, hasn’t she?” Elladan leaned down and ruffled the puppy’s hair, her tail wagging rapidly as she enjoyed the attention.

“Oh, you brought her back,” Erestor said, sounding disappointed.

Elladan came into the room and raised a questioning brow. “Do I sense a bit of trouble in paradise?”

“A bit? I swear, Elladan, if I had any inclination that taking care of a puppy was this much work, I would have made Glorfindel march right back to Bree, and give this dog back to the boy. I haven’t had any time to myself. I can’t concentrate long enough to get my thoughts together, and there she is, crying because she needs to relieve herself again. How much piddle can one dog make?”

“Sounds like you need a break,” Elladan mentioned.

“A break? I need a good night’s sleep. I am up every hour on the hour. And you’d think that Glorfindel would help? Oh no, wouldn’t want to disturb his lordship from his beauty sleep,” Erestor complained. “Not to mention the terrible strain it has put on our … night life, if you understand my meaning.”

“It won’t last forever,” Elladan said reassuringly. “Soon, she’ll outgrow all of this, and she’ll be a well behaved dog, loyal to her master.”

“Not soon enough,” Erestor murmured indistinctly to himself.

“Why don’t you let me take her for a few days,” Elladan offered. “That way you can get some rest, and it will give you and Glorfindel a chance to be together … uninterrupted.”

“Are you sure it would not be a burden to you? Léra can be quite persistent, especially in getting her own way.” Normally, Erestor would refuse an offer of kindness, but the thought of having Glorfindel to himself for an entire evening without stopping to take care of the puppy was too good to be true.

“It’ll be no problem at all,” Elladan smiled. “How about tonight?”

Erestor sighed with relief. “That would be perfect timing.”

* * *

For three nights in a row, Erestor had Glorfindel to himself. They had enjoyed a light meal, sipped fine wine, warmed their flesh by the fire, and slipped into bed, finding repeated satisfaction until the early hours of the morning. It felt wonderful, Erestor thought, just like it used to be.

This particular night had been adventuresome, and they had slept lightly after another round of love making. Erestor was awakened by the feel of Glorfindel kneading his naked arse, a finger sliding lower and lower, sending static charges surging up his spine. A set of teeth playfully clamped down on his right buttocks, and Erestor undulated seductively. The scent of lavender filled the air, and the counselor anticipated what would come next.

“Again already? You are a beast tonight, Fin.”

Glorfindel slid onto Erestor’s body as he lay face down on the bed. He felt his thighs forced apart and raised himself into position. Glorfindel released a low growling laugh. “A bit anxious, aren’t we? I think I’ll play with you first, my prey.”

Erestor rolled his shoulders as he turned his head. “Kiss me, lover,” he invited, and Glorfindel obliged. As they kissed, Erestor managed to move his body, turning over so that he was on his back, looking up into the handsome and lovely face of his gilded warrior. Their legs tangled, and their arms wrapped around each other. Glorfindel’s thigh came up and laid across Erestor’s pelvis. His hardness pushed against Erestor’s hip. Their lips slid across each other, tongues tasting and exploring.

“Roll onto your side,” Glorfindel whispered.

“Oh Fin, I do love it when you–”

There was a sudden pounding on the door, and before either elf could separate their lips, someone burst through the bedroom door. Erestor gasped and stared towards the shadowy figure invading his home. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

Out of the darkness leapt Léra, bounding onto the bed. She circled the lovers, still in their embrace, and then jumped down, disappearing into another part of Erestor’s home. Erestor scrambled for the sheet, covering both himself and Glorfindel. “Elladan, is that you?”

Out of the shadows stepped Elladan, and next to him his twin, Elrohir. They stood side by side, gawking at the lovers. Glorfindel, in his suave and seductive manner, looked over his shoulder and smiled deviously. “Hello boys, care to join us?” He removed the sheet that Erestor had just covered them with. Luckily, his thigh was covering Erestor’s still fully aroused manhood.

Erestor gasped again, this time out of shock. “Fin!” he reprimanded.

Elladan looked embarrassed, but mostly fed up. Elrohir cocked his head, raised a brow, and allowed a smile to slowly spread. “Hmm,” he muttered, considering the offer.

Elladan glanced at his brother and elbowed him. “Elrohir!” he complained.

The glancing blow did nothing to keep Elrohir from eyeing Glorfindel and Erestor, his mind running rampant with temptation. “What!” he countered. “He asked.”

“I swear, if it was not like staring into a mirror every time I looked at you, I’d say we were not related,” Elladan chided.

“Really, El? You feel nothing when you look at them? Not even a twitch? Do you not find it arousing to look upon two males?”

“What I find arousing is the fully willing and wet elleth that I left in my room.” Elladan turned back to Erestor, who had managed to wrap himself in his discarded robe, and now stood by the bed. “And that leads me to the reason for my invasion upon your privacy. I deeply apologize, Erestor, but I cannot take one more moment. I know I offered, but I take it back. Léra is a hand full, and too much to handle. I haven’t slept in three nights.”

“Sounds like you weren’t sleeping tonight either, but for a different reason,” Glorfindel chortled.

Erestor sighed and rolled his eyes at Glorfindel. He turned his attention back to Elladan and nodded. “I apologize if she was a burden. I should have taken her back sooner. Please, accept my apology and go back to your … guest.”

“It’s alright,” Elladan responded, sounding a bit guilty for reneging his offer. “I’m sorry too, for interrupting. Good night.” He turned and left the room, but Elrohir stood there a moment longer.

Glorfindel’s mouth curled into a wicked smile as he watched Elrohir’s eyes scan over their bed. He looked up at Erestor. “Are you sure you don’t want company?”

Erestor started to berate Glorfindel, but Elladan grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him through the door. “Fin was only jesting. Let them alone,” he scolded his brother. Then he smiled regretfully to Erestor and Glorfindel. “Good night,” he said, closing the door.

Glorfindel watched Elrohir leave reluctantly, but Erestor had seen the hopeful gaze on his lover’s face. He cleared his throat to gain Fin’s attention. “Have you ever … uh … with … Elrohir?” he asked curiously.

“I was only toying just now. I’d never do such a thing with the sons of Elrond. They were never even a consideration.”

“Mmph,” Erestor huffed again cynically.

“Meldanya, how could you suggest such a thing? They are Elrond’s sons. Their mother was like a sister to me.”

“Well, it’s good to know that you still have some morals left,” said Erestor, pulling the robe tighter around his body.

“However, if you ever decided that you wanted to experiment–” Glorfindel taunted before he was cut off.

“Three’s a crowd,” said Erestor, walking away from their bed.

“Where are you going?” Fin griped.

“To check on Léra, and then to make some tea. I don’t think I feel like playing anymore tonight.” The counselor strolled across the room to the door.

Glorfindel watched his lover leave the bedroom. He flung onto his back and stared at the ceiling, thinking that he might have made a mistake by bringing home the puppy.

* * *

A few weeks had passed, and Léra was getting better about holding her bladder and using the courtyard. Erestor was thrilled to be able to sleep through the night. However, Léra’s new habit was just as annoying. She’d reached the age when all puppies began losing their teeth, and that meant she chewed everything. So far, she’d eaten two pairs of Erestor’s boots, and gnawed on a handful of wooden spindles on the stairs. And now, while sitting at his desk trying to write something witty in his daily journal, he looked down to find the dog chewing on the corner of his good rug. Well, it was not so good anymore, not since Léra made use of it as a place to relieve herself. He was about to yell at her, but he was tired of it, and the rug was already ruined. “Go on then. Perhaps you’ll choke on it,” he said, laughing to himself.

He watched as Léra’s ears perked up and her head twisted sideways, as though she was trying her best to understand Erestor’s words. She had grown twice as big as the day Glorfindel brought her home. She would be generous in size when she was full grown, probably the height of a small pony, he thought. “Must be part wolf hound,” he said to himself. He reached out and ruffled the brown hair on her fuzzy head. “We must teach you to hunt. You could be quite helpful to Glorfindel on his excursions.”

Léra’s tongue flopped out and her mouth curved into a smile. Then she licked Erestor’s hand and wagged her bushy tail. Erestor couldn’t resist smiling himself. “Alright, you’ve been fairly good today so far, except for the rug, but that’s beyond repair by now. Stay there and I’ll fetch you a special treat. I believe there is some dried venison in the pantry.” Léra sat obediently.

Erestor went to the kitchen and searched the cupboards until he found what he was looking for. Glorfindel always kept dried meat in the house. Another trait of a warrior, always prepared. Erestor had learned a lot of things about Glorfindel since he permanently moved in with Erestor a few months ago. He slept with a weapon close to their bed out of habit, even though there was no threat of anything happening in their sleep. He thought it was due to the fact that Fin still had nightmares occasionally. They had both been trapped and held prisoner in Dol Guldur during the Ring War. The Witch-king of Angmar had managed to invade both of their minds at the time. While Erestor dealt with his own capture, Glorfindel had been locked up and whipped almost to the point of death. Even though the Witch-king and his brethren were long destroyed, this was still the reason for the nightmares. Erestor did his best to help Fin through the memories of that time, but they still visited him every once in a while, hence the reason for the dagger that he kept in the drawer of his side table. The dried meat was just an old soldier’s habit. It was a main staple among the troops when they were out on patrol. Dried meat kept for months and was a viable source of protein and strength. Even now, when Glorfindel went on errands, he still took a supply of the stuff with him.

Currently, Fin was away on another errand for Lord Elrond, some business in Lothlórien. Erestor hadn’t gone with him this time because of Léra. She was not old enough to go with them, too curious and troublesome was more like it. And Erestor could not ask Elladan to watch her again. So he decided to stay in Rivendell and perhaps find time to finish his writing, but that hadn’t been so easy.

Often times, Erestor found his mind wandering back to the day he came upon Lastar at the waterfall. It was a desperate time for the counselor. Glorfindel had closed himself off to Erestor. Their relationship had seemed to end, and Erestor’s heart was in turmoil. That’s when he truly discovered the bond that they’d made, for without Fin in his life, he felt the fading of his soul. It was excruciating, something he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. And just when he thought he’d reached the deepest abyss, Lastar was there, as usual. The young elf, who had always held Erestor with high admiration, seemed to appear anytime the counselor was troubled, and especially when it concerned Glorfindel. This time, though, Erestor needed him, used him as an anchor and drew from his strength so that Erestor could confront Fin one more time before giving up. In order to do this, Erestor conceded to Lastar’s seductions, and they joined in secret behind the waterfall.

Erestor told himself time and time again that he committed this act of immorality to save himself from the pain of fading and try once more to confront Glorfindel. It had worked, but it came with a price, when Lastar sacrificed his life in order to save Fin’s, and not for the elf lord, but for Erestor. Although Lastar loved Erestor, he’d seen how desolate the counselor was without Fin in his life, and the young elf knew Erestor could never return the love that Lastar gave so freely. And so, he gave his own life to ensure Erestor’s happiness.

Erestor knew he should have been honest right from the very beginning, and confessed to Glorfindel about Lastar, but the memory of the pain of not having the elf lord in his life was still too new. He was terrified that he would lose Fin again, and he couldn’t stand the thought. So, Erestor buried the memories, and tried to cope as best he could. He’d told himself that if Glorfindel ever asked him directly, he would tell the whole story, but the safety in this plan was knowing that Fin had no reason to ask. Lastar was gone, and Erestor and Glorfindel had moved on, reestablishing their relationship. Life was good, he told himself. No need to conjure up the past and open old wounds.

Erestor shook himself from his thoughts, and continued looking for a treat for Léra. “I know there has to be something around here,” Erestor said to himself. “Fin always leaves a bit of dried meat in the house.” He laughed to himself when he thought about that, all doubt and guilt dismissed. His heart beat loudly at the thought of his lover. Despite all that had happened, their love had survived and their commitment was solid now.

“Ah, here it is,” Erestor said, finding the meat wrapped in a bundle. He took out a strip and made his way back to his writing room only to be horrified by what he found. It looked like it started with that damn rug again. Léra must have decided to play tug of war with it and in the process, she bumped into one of the bookshelves, upsetting one of the shelves. Books lay scattered, some opened with their pages exposed, other’s lying face down. Some of the pages were ripped from where she carelessly stepped on them. One book had teeth marks on the binding. Obviously Léra thought she’d try chewing on it, but stopped when she had to relieve herself on the next book. Erestor’s eyes traveled along the path of destruction until they came to rest on Léra, standing across the room at the end of the trail. And in her mouth were the Dale documents that he’d just traded for. He could just make out the title at the top of one of the pages, ‘Pertaining to the Black Arrow’.

“Drop that, you mangy mutt!” Erestor demanded.

Léra simply wagged her tail, thinking that they were engaging in a game. When Erestor took a step towards her, she jerked to the side, ready to flee. “I’m not playing games!” Erestor said angrily. He started towards her again, and she shook her head violently. The bottom half of the first page fell from her mouth.

“No!” Erestor screamed. Léra took off like a flash, her nails tearing at the exposed pages of the books laying on the floor. Erestor chased her out of the writing room, and searched the house until he found her standing in the middle of his bed, bits of paper scattered all over the blanket. She was chewing frantically, as though trying to destroy any evidence of her bad behavior.

“Not my documents, you pitiful excuse for a pet!” he shouted. “Those are one of a kind accounts of the destruction of Dale. They are rare. They are priceless.” He slumped his shoulders in defeat. “And now they are in your belly.” He lifted his eyes, now shooting daggers at the dog, anger building with every breath. “That’s it. I’ve had it with you. I’ve given you all my attention. I’ve spent many sleepless nights waiting on you. I’ve set aside my love life for you, and you bring me nothing but grief.”

Erestor stood up straight and slowly approached the bed. Léra knew that he was angry with her, and she did not try to run this time. Instead, she laid down on the bed, ears pinned back and eyes drooping with submission. Erestor mocked Glorfindel. “You need something to take care of, he said. You are good at it, he said.” He grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck and pulled her from the bed. “Out of my room. Out of my house.” He dragged Léra through the house, opened the front door and pushed her out. “Go! Get out!”

Léra backed away from the doorway, ears down and tail tucked beneath her. She gave Erestor one last pitiful look, and for a miniscule moment, he felt bad, until he thought of the documents laying in shreds upon his bed. “You’ll sleep outside. Go on! Get!” Then he slammed the door and walked back to take care of the mess, cursing the day he first met the pup, cursing Glorfindel and his hair brained ideas.

He gathered up the scraps of paper and put them in a bowl. Perhaps he could piece them back together, at least enough so that he could make a written copy. Why didn’t he make a copy to begin with, he berated himself. Erestor always made sure to make a copy of anything that he only had one of, in case something like this ever happened. The original document was always best to have and it could never be replaced, but a copy ensured that the information would never be lost. Any good scribe was sure to do the same thing. And perhaps if he hadn’t been distracted by raising a puppy, he might have made sure to do this with the priceless Dale documents.

Any good scribe, he thought again. Oswin was not just a bookstore owner, he’d been a scribe once himself. “Maybe he has a written copy,” Erestor said aloud. He must go back to Bree and ask him, but he didn’t want to leave before Glorfindel came home. If Fin had business there, which he often did, then he might want to go together. While he thought about this, he could have sworn he heard Léra whimpering outside beneath his window, but when he looked at the street below, it was empty and the dog was gone. Erestor fought back the guilt that tried to enter his head. “She started out on the streets. She’ll be fine for the night,” he justified, snuffing out the regret that started snaking its way into his heart. “I’ll let her back in by morning.” But he wouldn’t find her the next morning.

* * *

As a matter of fact, a couple weeks had gone by, and there’d been no sign of Léra since he threw her out of the house. He remembered Glorfindel telling him how the pup had wandered away from her original family in Bree. She was a determined little thing, but not so little anymore, he reminded himself. She’d lost her mother just after being weaned, so she was used to being on her own. Even the boy who had found the litter had a difficult time keeping track of Léra. “I didn’t think she’d disappear though,” he said. “I hope she’s alright. Then again, a dog like that never stays in one place for very long.” This made him think of Glorfindel. The elf lord hadn’t been much different once, always on the move, never staying in one city for too long, even the city he called home, Rivendell. It wasn’t until he met Erestor that he changed his wandering ways and finally settled down. Erestor sighed and hoped he hadn’t made a mistake with Léra.

A letter came for him, from Lothlórien. Without breaking the wax seal, Erestor already knew it was from Glorfindel. “Let me see,” he said. “Things are taking longer than he thought and he has to stay a while longer.” He opened the letter and read, laughing to himself. “Just as I thought.” He set the letter down on his office desk and looked around. “Well, I could send correspondence to Oswin and ask him if he has a copy of the documents, but Glorfindel might be home by the time I receive a response. It’s not all that far to Bree. I could just go there and ask him in person. It would be good to see the little old bookkeeper again. Perhaps that’s what I’ll do.”

Erestor exited his office and searched the library until he found Canyo, his assistant. “Things have been rather quiet around here. Would you mind if I left you in charge for a while?”

“Not at all,” Canyo smiled. “Going somewhere?”

“To Bree, actually. Glorfindel won’t be back for a while yet, and I’ve some business to attend to there.”

“Who will you be going with?” Canyo asked curiously.

“No one. I won’t be long so there’s no need to uproot someone just for the company,” Erestor said.

“Well, you be very careful then,” Canyo advised with concern. “Just because we are into the Peaceful Days does not mean that all dangers have disappeared. There are wild animals upon the path, and not a few thieves either. Maybe if you asked one of the twins to accompany you–”

“Nonsense, Canyo. I believe I shall be just fine. It’s not far and I’ll not be there long.”

“Suit yourself, but stay cautious.”

Erestor smiled and patted Canyo on the shoulder. “I appreciate your concern.”

His bags packed and adorning his riding clothes, and of course the boots that Glorfindel gifted him a while ago, Erestor headed to the stables. The stable hand brought his horse out and helped secure the bags in place. The horse, a mature brown mare with a blond mane, was new to Erestor. He’d only had her for a few months and they were still getting used to each other. The man Erestor bought her from said she was excellent at traveling long distances. She did not tire easy. Erestor trusted this to be true, though he felt there was something the man was not telling him. Still, he’d had no trouble with her, and he’d ridden her a lot so that the horse would learn to gain his trust, and his trust for her too. Only once did she give him a slight scare when he brought Léra with him to the stable. He wanted the pup to get used to being around horses, hoping that Glorfindel would eventually bring her along on hunting trips. The dog seemed a bit leery at first, which was only natural, but the horse whinnied and nickered in a threatened tone. Erestor didn’t think much about it at the time. The horse was not used to dogs it seemed, but that was alright. It was Erestor’s horse anyways, and he usually did not accompany Glorfindel on his extensive hunting trips.

As his thoughts went out to Léra, he felt a pang of guilt, and hoped she was alright. Had she found a new home by now or was she living in the wilds? He began to fret the latter. “Maybe I was a bit hasty after all. I should not have put her out, but I was just so angry at the time.” He’d never had a pet before. The only animals he’d ever owned were horses, and they weren’t pets. Besides, the stable hands dealt with them, not Erestor. And the only dogs he’d ever seen lived in barns or wandered the streets of human villages. No one brought them into their homes. So perhaps Léra was fine on her own. Perhaps it was natural for her. Perhaps he still felt guilty. Erestor sighed and decided to keep his eyes and ears open for any sign of the dog. He regretted his decision, and found himself worrying more.

* * *

It was only a few days journey to Bree, and the first two nights were uneventful. Erestor made due with his food rations and slept beneath the stars. It was quite peaceful to be alone for a change, though in his heart he missed Glorfindel terribly. Things had been good between them, maybe a little too well. They’d had no arguments, not like they used to have. He supposed that after everything they’d been through, there wasn’t much else to discover, outside of the small things, but those were always fun and interesting. The bigger issues had all been dealt with. Their past lives had been discussed and were out in the open. Any unfinished business had found closure. Glorfindel made amends with his past, as well as Erestor. All was well, he lied to himself.

As Erestor laid on his bedroll and stared up at the stars overhead, his thoughts drifted to that unfortunate incident, when he and Glorfindel had their falling out. It all started when Glorfindel discovered that Astarion, someone from his past in Gondolin, was still alive and imprisoned after all these long centuries by the Nazgûl. Neither Fin nor Erestor were in their right mind at the time, having been affected, themselves, by the Nazgûl’s black magic. After freeing Astarion, Fin thought he could save the elf’s lost soul, and Erestor was sure he couldn’t. It broke them apart and almost destroyed everything they felt for each other.

Again, Lastar entered Erestor’s mind. Why? “Leave me be, Lastar. You are gone now. I have Glorfindel back. I can’t … I won’t do anything to damage that. I will not risk losing him. He never needs to know what happened between us.”

A light wind blew across his campsite, and Erestor felt the vestiges of his ghostly remorse disperse. This would be his last night on the road. Tomorrow he would reach Bree, and then he’d speak with Oswin about replacement of the ruined documents. Then he would return to Rivendell, and hopefully find Glorfindel returned from Lothlórien. He could get back to his peaceful life, and never again think about his past.

“I should have made a copy,” he mumbled to himself as he drifted into elvish dreams, the mind of a counselor always working.

* * *

Erestor awoke to the distant sound of wolves howling. He sat up and looked through the darkness, but all he could see were trees lining the road to his right, and the land sloping down to a creek at his left. Erestor had made camp just inside the small stand of trees, not wanting to be too far from the road. His fire had died to nothing but smoldering embers, and his horse whickered nervously where he’d tied her up. Erestor stood and walked a little ways into the forest, relieving himself on several trees. He’d heard that this was a deterrent to keep wild animals away. Glorfindel laughed when Erestor shared his knowledge, and told him that someone had given him false information. The only thing that kept wolves away, Fin had said, was a bow and arrows. 

He returned to his camp and started to stoke the fire when his horse started nickering and stomping her feet. Making no sudden moves, Erestor abandoned the fire, slowly stood and walked over to his horse. He spoke calming elvish while he ran a gentle hand along her side. She stopped her fussing, but her muscles were still taut. Danger was definitely near.

“Alright now, old girl,” he said easily. “We’re just going to be on our way.” He mounted the horse as he spoke to her, wrapped his fingers in her golden mane and started to give her the next command, when suddenly all Mordor broke lose.

Out of the darkness, their silver eyes glowed. Erestor could barely make out their dark shapes emerging from the forest. Wolves. They’d been there for a while, he thought, planning their attack. They would assault an individual, but they were cautious of the horse. This was Erestor’s only sense of security. He’d not brought a bow, but he had Aicalango, his sword. Still, he didn’t want to get that close to the wolves. It was better to leave the camp and the wolves behind. He was sure that they would not follow. And his horse was his assurance that they would not try anything.

Or so he thought . . .

Erestor gave the command for the horse to go, but she froze as though her legs were stuck in quicksand. He commanded it of her again and was met with resistance. Now it was beginning to dawn on him, the reason he’d felt slighted by the horse seller. She was terrified of canines. The signs were there when she became nervous at the sight of gentle Léra, but he hadn’t paid attention. The horse’s natural instinct to run was not there. Terror of the wolves had caused her to become immobile. Next, Erestor thought, would be panic. He had to get her out of there or she might throw him. Then he would be in danger of being trampled.

Erestor nudged the horse hard in the ribs to gain her attention. She bobbed her head in annoyance, and he clicked his tongue and aimed her towards the creek opposite of the forest. Water might slow down the advancement of the wolves, long enough for Erestor’s horse to come to her senses and make for Bree. She responded to his calming voice and let the elf lead her across the road and down the sloping land towards the creek. They made it, and he directed the mare into the shallow creek bed. It was wide enough to keep the wolves at bay until they figured out that it was not very deep.

Erestor took a moment to get his bearings straight, and saw that the wolves had followed him. They padded closer to the edge of the creek, eyes steady on him. One wolf raised its head to the sky and let out a hair-raising howl. Instantly, the sound of more wolves came from the opposite side of the creek, and Erestor was surrounded with nothing but the shallow water keeping them back.

The horse threw her head up and down, and snorted uncomfortably. One foot began pawing at the water, and then she was stomping with nervousness. Erestor raised the tone of his voice and commanded that she calm, but it did no good. The horse was deaf to his demands. Her only focus was to escape the wolf pack. She swiveled back and forth, trying to keep her eyes on the danger that surrounded them. Erestor tried to get her to follow the creek, but she would not leave the spot where she stood.

One of the wolves darted forward to the edge of the water. The horse bounced, lifting her front feet off the ground. Another wolf performed the same move and the horse kicked her hind quarters. The wolves were toying with her, trying to force her to throw her rider. Erestor realized that it was not the horse they were after, just him. But as long as he could stay atop his mare, he might have a chance.

No sooner did that thought brush his mind that his untrusting steed rose high up on her hind legs. Erestor dug his heels into her sides and grasped her mane. He had to hold on. She set her front feet back into the creek. He’d managed to stay upon his horse this time, but the wolves were surrounding them. The only open avenue was the creek itself. He yelled for the horse to go forward, but it was no use. She would not budge from her spot. Damn that horse trader, he cursed under his breath. The mare might be good at traveling long distances, only if there was no danger of wolves. Little good that did. There were always wolves about, though Erestor had never seen any as aggressive as this pack.

There was a howl and a splash, and suddenly, the pack leader was standing before them in the middle of the creek. Too late now, Erestor said to himself. They finally figured out that the water was not deep. The horse, terrified by the sight of the large grey beast before her, lost her senses and reared up on her hind quarters again. Erestor tried with all his elvish might to hang on, but he couldn’t, not at this angle. He fell from high up, and landed flat on his back. The middle of his spine cracked as he felt the sharp jolt from falling on a large rock. Pain shot down his right leg and he cried out. That was the least of his fears at the moment, when he realized he was looking up at the belly of his horse. She was stomping and kicking, water splashing, making it hard for Erestor to see. That’s when a flash of silver caught his eye. Aicalango hung from one of his bags, the edge of the hilt caught in the burlap. It must have snagged on the sack as he fell from the horse. That sword was his only means of defense, and if the horse took off, he’d be without any weapon. Ignoring the pain in his back, Erestor struggled to stand, but he couldn’t while beneath the terrified horse. One large hoof came forward, almost kicking him in the chest, but he rolled out of the way. Erestor now had to concentrate on the horses movements until he could get out from under her. Then he needed to free his sword and with any luck, get back on his horse. The mare was the only thing between him and the wolf pack, but a moment longer and the horse would be gone. Either that or he would be trampled, left as an easy meal for the wolves.

He managed to get himself into a crouching position and moved along with the horses steps, keeping a close eye on her legs. Like dancing with a directionless partner, Erestor jumped and dodged until he saw his chance to get out from beneath her. Aicalango hung down right at arm’s length. In one swift movement, Erestor rolled out from underneath the mare, but the sharp edge of her hoof caught him across the cheek. He cried out, but kept his concentration on his sword. He reached up, grabbed the hilt and pulled it free of the sack. It ripped open, spilling its content into the creek. Luckily, he had nothing of value with him, and that bag had carried his food rations. Dried meat and lembas floated in the light current. An untimely laugh bubbled up in his throat at the sight of the dried meat. Glorfindel.

Erestor tried to get back onto his horse, but her movements were too erratic. He looked around to see if there was a place he could get to, where, if he had to fight off the wolves, he could at least get his back up against something. Fighting a pack of hungry animals from all sides was not ideal. He couldn’t keep an eye on all of them. Right now, the only thing he had to use as shelter was his horse, and she was not going to stay much longer. Barks, growls, howling and snarling, the wolves were closing in, trying to make the horse run. They were getting anxious, and Erestor realized why. He looked down and saw the blood on his shirt. The cut on his cheek bled profusely, and the iron tinge in the air roused the wolf pack. Injured prey, Erestor thought of himself. Well, not so injured that he couldn’t use his sword.

And then it finally happened. The horrified mare saw her opportunity and shot off down the creek before flanking to the right and darting into the trees. His only protection was gone. Erestor stood alone in the water, wolves on every side of him, baring white fangs as they drooled with hunger. They slowly stepped towards him, graceful even when they were about to kill.

Erestor lifted his sword into position. Would they all pounce on him at once, or one at a time, he wondered. Something pulled at the back of his tunic, and he spun around, his sword striking air. A wolf was backing away just before being caught by the blade. They were playing with him before they killed him, and he realized that this was a young pack, and the leader was teaching them to hunt. The morbid thought actually eased Erestor’s mind. They were not seasoned animals. He might have a chance.

In the midst of everything, Erestor hadn’t taken inventory of his aggressors. He counted seven including the leader. Young or not, he was outnumbered, but if it was a fight they wanted, so be it. And that’s when the first one struck, the pinching of teeth felt through his riding boot. Erestor spun and swung his sword, the tip just catching the first wolf. Not enough to do any damage, but enough so that this particular beast heightened his cautiousness. The others still had to learn, and Erestor was not thrilled about being their example.

“Come on then, who’s next?” he called, looking left and right, turning to see who was behind him. When he came forward, another one was standing before him, lips curled back so that its white fangs were showing. It leapt at Erestor, and he brought his sword forward, slicing the animal’s side. It yelped and fell back with the others. Next, two wolves approached him together, finding safety in numbers. The first one darted towards him in a grey blur. Erestor defended him off, but the second one got a hold of his free arm. His sword impaled the first wolf and it fell limp, splashing into the creek at his feet. Then he kicked the second animal in its chest, and it released his arm. Erestor wished he’d worn his bracers, but there had been no reason to travel in any kind of armor. A quick observation found blood seeping through the white cloth of his sleeve. The bite marks had been deep, though his adrenaline kept the pain at bay.

Suddenly, he was hit from the back. He could feel the imprint of two large paws close to his injured spine. Searing pain shot down his leg again, and he fell. Lying face up in the creek, he was now fighting for his life. A wolf would approach and he’d slice through the air. Sometimes he caught flesh and sometimes not, but he found that hidden elvish strength that all warrior mustered when their eternity was at stake. Three wolves lay dead. He was winning. But that small piece of overconfidence cost him as the next wave of beasts attacked. The last three youths played unfair, taking turns distracting Erestor while the others snapped and bit at his flesh. Jaws clamped down on his thigh and shook violently as he thrust his sword at a different animal. Then his arm was being treated the same way. If anyone ever wondered what it was like to be eaten alive, this must be it, he thought.

The torture went on for what seemed like hours, though it must have only been moments. Erestor had bite marks on one thigh, both arms and his shoulder. He was losing his strength with each attack, though he still managed to retaliate with his sword, catching one of his attackers with a good slice that sent the beast away whimpering. It wasn’t dead, but at least it was injured. Only two to contend with now. Unfortunately, with that last swing, Aicalango had fallen from his hand. He had to get his sword back.

No sooner had that thought appeared, when there came an awful snarling growl. The two young wolves snapped back at the larger, more aggressive animal, forgetting their standing in the pack. The alpha latched on to one of their necks and shook until the youth cried out and slunk away. The other followed suit, not wanting to upset their leader. She was enormous compared to the others. Her eyes were filled with hunger and rage, teeth gleaning white where her furry lips folded back. A ridge of grey hair stood up on her back, from neck to tail, and her growl would have frightened the greatest of trolls. She was done with the training exercise, and after letting the young ones wear down their prey, she was ready to put an end to Erestor’s life and finally have her feast.

Erestor looked over his shoulder and eyed his sword. He couldn’t reach it from this position, so he started edging backward, pushing with his feet, but his boots slipped on the moss covered rocks. He checked on the alpha wolf and she was still advancing, slow and methodically. She could pounce at any moment, but she seemed to want to let Erestor try for his sword. He knew she wouldn’t let him, so he planned his next move carefully.

And then it happened. The wolf lunged towards him, sailing through the air. Erestor grabbed a large rock on the creek bed and used it for leverage, rolling out of the way. The wolf landed in the water with a splash, and for a moment Erestor was blind. While the animal was getting to her feet, Erestor flipped over onto his hands and knees and jumped towards his sword. His fingers touched the hilt, and then he was hit in the back, forced face down into the water. Sharp teeth dug into the flesh of is outstretched arm and he lost his grip on the sword. With all his might, he rolled over to face his attacker. The wolf released his arm and clamped down on his shoulder. White hot shards of pain darted through his arm and he cried out. His free hand punched the wolf in the head, but it did not faze her at all. He punched again and she released him, more from anger than injury. She bared her teeth as she glared at his face. Her lips drew back, saliva dripping from her mouth as it slowly opened. Her vicious growl sent chills down Erestor’s aching spine. Then she went for his throat, but Erestor reached up, grabbed the sides of her head and locked his elbows. He didn’t know how long he could hold her off. She pushed and snapped at his face. Erestor’s arms were weakening. As soon as he let go, she would grab him by the throat. And just as he thought he could not hold on any longer, something slammed into the side of the pack leader, knocking her from Erestor. Not wasting any time, he scrambled onto his knees and retrieved Aicalango. He glanced briefly at the wolf, who was fighting with another animal. Erestor thought it was one of the younger ones, but the two that were left were now coming for him. He forgot about the pack leader for the moment and focused on the remaining beasts. As they flung themselves at him, he secured his sword with both hands and brought it up, slicing through the attacking animals. It was the last of his strength, and when he was sure they were dead, Erestor fell to his knees. On the far side of the creek, the alpha still fought with something. They changed positions, the wolf pinned to the ground at the edge of the creek, and then all movement ceased. Blood pooled in the mud and the creek water lapped at the two bodies. The wet fur was unrecognizable, as both animals were wet and covered in mud and blood. Erestor crawled to them, and finally saw who his rescuer was.

“Léra?” he said, baffled. He could barely identify her. Her hair was matted with mud.

Erestor looked at the wolf. There were large puncture wounds in her neck, hair and skin torn away and blood oozed from the fatal wound. Then he realized that Léra wasn’t moving either. He dropped his sword and collapsed next to the dog. His hand rested on her side, and her chest moved. She was still alive, but for how long he didn’t know.

“What are you doing here? How did you get here?” he asked. Léra gave a whimper and raised her head. But she laid back down again, no strength left.

Erestor was shocked to see her, to see her befouled matted hair, and her poor condition. The guilt he’d kept at bay released itself, and he shed a tear for the mangy mutt. He felt ridiculous crying for a dog, but it was because of him that she was out here in the wilds instead of at home with a comfortable bed and plenty of food. So she’d destroyed some personal items, and some things that were priceless and irreplaceable, but was that really a reason to throw her out? And now here she was, dying and dirty. He’d been mean to her, yelled at her countless times, threw her onto the streets, and yet she risked her life to save him. It could only be an act of the Valar that she was here in his time of need. Canyo had warned Erestor not to go to Bree alone, and he thought lightly of it. If it weren’t for Léra, he might have succumbed to the wolf. The searing pain in his leg, shoulder and arm told him he might still succumb. He decided that nothing hurt worse than to be mauled by an animal. The puncture wounds went all the way through tendons and muscles, touching bones.

His horse was long gone, and he was alone. Léra was too far gone to be of any more help. All Erestor could do now was to pray that someone would find him as his body gave way to the need for healing sleep. Should no one come, then this might be his end too.

“Blessed Valar, help me,” he whispered, and then lost consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

“Where is he,” demanded Glorfindel, bursting through the door of the local doctor’s private home in the city of Bree. The elf lord scanned the dimly lit house. “Where is the injured elf? I was told at the gate that he was brought here.”

Two young girls stood wide eyed and motionless at the sight of the golden haired elf. His eyes narrowed on them, but they remained speechless. Then a door at the back of the parlor opened and a man came in, still dressed in his night clothes and cap. He laid a hand on each of the girl’s shoulders and gave them a small push in the direction of a hallway. The girls scampered off.

Glorfindel watched, and then his attention came back to the man, whose home he had invaded. “Are you the doctor?”

“I am. The name’s Madock. And who might you–”

“Lord Glorfindel of Rivendell,” the elf answered tersely.

The doctor came to his full height, nearly a match to Glorfindel’s own. The elf lord looked him over carefully. He was a handsome man, almost middle aged, dark brown hair cut short, square jaw and sharp cheek bones. “You do not look like a doctor,” Fin said. It was true. Most doctors that Glorfindel had come across were elderly men, wise in human years. But this man looked more like a soldier, his features strong and unyielding like a man that had seen war and defeated it by a large margin.

“I didn’t know we had a certain appearance,” Madock answered, eyes sharply narrowed on Glorfindel. “You have entered my home rather abruptly, and have frightened my children. May I ask your relationship to the patient?”

Glorfindel’s face seemed to soften a bit as he realized how he must have looked to the children. He’d ridden straight from Lothlórien as soon as he heard. The only thing on his mind was getting to Erestor. He hadn’t known how badly injured he was, only that he was found hurt and brought to Bree.

“He is the Chief Counselor to Lord Elrond of Imladris, and I am Captain of the Guard.”

Madock shifted and crossed his arms, blocking Glorfindel from coming any further into his home. “That is all well and fine, Lord Glorfindel, but I asked of your acquaintanceship to the patient, not to Lord Elrond.”

“He is … we are … close,” Glorfindel stammered. Then he relaxed his posture to seem less threatening. “Please, may I see him? May I see Erestor?”

“Erestor?” the doctor wondered. “We did not know his name. He’s been unconscious ever since he was brought here.”

“And when was that?”

“Over a week ago. Almost two.” Madock answered. He regarded Glorfindel another moment until he felt sure that it was safe to allow the giant of an elf any further into his home. But something about the look in his eyes told the doctor that his concern was genuine. “Come on. He is in here.”

Madock led Glorfindel down a short hall to another door at the back. They went inside and there was Erestor laying peacefully in a bed. A lantern burned low on a bedside table. He was covered in bandages, both arms and around the neck and one shoulder.

Glorfindel went straight to the bed and smoothed the hair on top of Erestor’s head, noticing stitches and the cut across his cheek. “Meldanya,” he whispered very quietly.

Madock looked on and realized that there was more than a professional relationship between the two elves. It was something he’d heard of before, but couldn’t understand … how two men could have feelings for each other in the same way he had with his wife. It wasn’t his place to judge though. The elves were different and strange compared to men, and such things were easily accepted within their race, unlike the race of humans.

“He, uh … he’s in stable condition. The wounds seem to be healing. Some of the puncture marks were quite deep, and I feared infection setting in, but he seems to be alright,” Madock informed the gilded elf, now kneeling beside the bed, holding Erestor’s hand.

“I was told that he was hurt badly, but no one could tell me how,” Glorfindel said, his eyes never leaving his mate.

“He was attacked … to the south, just a few miles from here. The man who found him thought it must have been a pack of wolves. The bite marks on his arms, legs and neck support that theory. He’s lucky to be alive.”

“It would seem that way,” Glorfindel said, examining Erestor’s bruised and battered body. He pulled the sheet from his chest and saw the black and blue marks, the scrapes and scratches. Fin winced, closing his eyes as though he himself could feel Erestor’s pain.

“I have to say, it was not a good idea to travel alone. At least I assume he was alone,” the doctor prodded.

“I suppose he was. I’d been in Lothlórien. I hadn’t any news of his departure from Rivendell, but leave it up to him to not want anyone to go out of their way.” As Glorfindel spoke, it sounded like he was berating Erestor, whether he could hear or not.

Madock noticed the tender way Lord Glorfindel touched the patient, and he felt a bit awkward, as though he should give them some privacy. “I need to check on my children. I’ll return in a moment.”

Glorfindel glanced over his shoulder and nodded. He waited until Madock was gone, then he laid his head on Erestor’s chest. “Ai, Meldanya, what have you done? Out alone in the wild, for Eru’s sake. What were you thinking?”

* * *

Some time had passed when the doctor came back into the patient room. Glorfindel still sat in the same place, his hand still holding Erestor’s, staring at the sleeping form of his love. Madock waited before saying anything. He wasn’t sure if he should interrupt, just in case Lord Glorfindel was performing some kind of elf magic. He wasn’t sure if that was true or not. Tales were told about the elves, but Madock had always thought they were not much different from men, besides being immortal.

“Can I … get you something to eat or drink?” Madock finally asked.

“I am fine,” Glorfindel answered, never looking away from Erestor.

“Are you sure? You said you came from Lothlórien, and as quickly as you seemed to have come, I doubt you’ve eaten anything since then.”

Glorfindel sighed. “I’ll take wine if you have any.”

“Will brandy do?”

“Fine.”

Madock left briefly and came back with a bottle and two glasses. He poured a bit into each glass and gave one to Glorfindel. “Mind if I join you?” the doctor asked.

“Not at all.” Glorfindel took a sip and winced.

Madock laughed. “I assume your kind is not used to such potent drink.”

Glorfindel didn’t answer, but he let a small smile curl the corner of his mouth. His attention was too focused on Erestor. After a long silence he spoke. “Do you know who found Erestor and brought him here?”

“Yes, his name’s Arwel. Older man, makes his living hunting. I suppose that’s why he was in that area. Good thing too.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I’d like to meet him and thank him for his kindness. Later, though. I want to be here when Erestor awakes.”

“Of course,” the doctor agreed. He took another sip of the brandy. “Your friend was quite valiant from what Arwel tells me. He found the bodies of the wolves, all having been slashed with a sword. One wolf, the leader, Arwel says, had its throat torn out. There was an injured dog lying next to it. He thinks it was a wolf hound, young but strong enough to take on the pack leader.”

“This dog,” Glorfindel asked curiously. “Was it brown?”

“Why, I believe so.”

“Léra,” Glorfindel whispered.

“Was this Erestor’s dog?”

“It was, or is, or . . . Do you know what happened to her?”

“Arwel said she was pretty badly injured. He took her to his place to try to heal her. I’ve been too busy to check and see what became of her.”

“I’ll find out later. Right now I need to–” Glorfindel stopped speaking when he saw eye movement behind Erestor’s closed lids. “Is he waking?”

“Perhaps,” the doctor said, jumping up and going to the bed. He lifted one of the lids, but Erestor’s pupils were still fully dilated. “I think he’s only dreaming, but you would know more about that than me.”

Erestor moaned, his breathing becoming rapid. Glorfindel stood and laid a hand to the side of Erestor’s face. He leaned in close and whispered his lover’s name as tenderly as he could, willing him to wake.

“Lastar,” Erestor said softly. He repeated the name several times before he calmed and fell silent and still.

Glorfindel looked stunned, possibly even hurt. Madock was curious, but couldn’t find his voice to ask. It was obvious that the name meant something. The elf sat back down in his chair, releasing Erestor’s hand. He closed his eyes a moment, and when they opened, they searched for the glass of brandy. He picked it up, gulped down the rest, and slouched in the chair.

Madock couldn’t help but feel for the elf lord. This must not have been a name he wanted to hear. “A friend of his?” he asked when the silence got too nerve-wracking.

“He was, once,” Glorfindel answered, the terseness coming back.

Madock thought it must be someone from Erestor’s past, someone Glorfindel did not approve of. A past lover perhaps? The elves led strange lives, he thought.

Glorfindel felt the awkwardness in the room and needed an escape. He remembered the children he’d frightened when he first arrived. “I must apologize for my rude entrance earlier. I did not mean to scare your children or your wife.”

“Oh, well … I think they might have been more in awe than scared. They’ve never seen an elf before. As for my wife, she died last year.”

Glorfindel paused and looked across to the man. “I am sorry for you loss.”

Silence fell between man and elf once more, like an invisible wall closing them off to each other. Now it was Madock’s turn to end the awkwardness. “Did you fight in the war?” he asked.

Glorfindel let out a breathy laugh. “Which one?”

Madock smiled, forgetting about the long lives of the elves. “The Ring War.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I marched with the Lothlórien army to Dol Guldur during that time.” He noticed that Madock’s glass was almost empty, reached for the bottle and filled it. “What about you? Something tells me you have not always been a doctor.”

“Before coming to Bree, I lived in Gondor, where I belonged to the guard. I fought in the battle at Pelennor Fields defending my city. I’d been a soldier most of my life, but I also studied medicine.” Madock answered.

“Does one not conflict with the other?” Glorfindel wondered.

“I was not killing my own men. I fought with them, but I could also help heal them too. Well, some of them anyways.” Madock’s voice lowered. There was something much darker to the story, but Fin would not pursue it. Madock went on. “My wife died during the war. She took our children to her father’s shop. He was a tailor, and his business was on the lower levels, like most stores in Minas Tirith.” The doctor took a good long swig from his glass before continuing. “The orcs invaded. They … killed my wife.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Glorfindel, not knowing what else to say. After a moment of silence, he went on. “I lost some people close to me also. My biggest fear was losing Erestor.” He looked longingly at the sleeping counselor. “It still is.”

“You have nothing to fear, Lord Glorfindel.”

The sound of Erestor calling out Lastar’s name still fresh in his mind, Glorfindel could not be comforted. “There is always something to fear.”

Madock cleared his throat and took a deep gulp of his drink. He was uncomfortable discussing the past. Glorfindel felt this too, and changed the conversation back to the doctor. “So, you were a soldier in Gondor. What brought you to Bree?”

“My children, actually. The war terrified them. They’d experienced things that no child must endure. The war, the loss of their mother, it was too much. The faces of orcs and goblins haunted them. I couldn’t stand to see them suffer any longer, and I decided to get as far away from Gondor as possible. Bree is not the most appealing place to live, but there are no ghostly remnants of monsters here. And the city was in need of doctors. So I hung up my sword and traded it for the scalpel. I can’t afford to continue soldiering. My children need me, and they are all I have left in this world.”

Glorfindel smiled and bowed his head. “You are a good father, Madock, and a fine healer.” The elf sat back in his chair again. He sighed deeply.

Madock could tell Glorfindel was in turmoil. He really didn’t want to impose, but Fin’s curiosity and ability to make the doctor talk was very comforting. Madock hadn’t spoken of his wife in quite a while. He felt he needed to return the favor. “You seemed disturbed by the name Erestor spoke. I hope all is well between the two of you.”

“Everything has been quite well. I’m just surprised to hear him speak the name.”

“Who was he, if you don’t mind my inquisitiveness?”

“Erestor knew him better than I did. He was an acquaintance, and then a friend. In the end, Lastar saved my life by sacrificing his own.” Glorfindel’s words seemed to slow and fade as he finished speaking.

“I’m sorry for your loss also,” Madock said. “And I hope all is well for you and … and your … and Erestor.”

Glorfindel could hear the uncomfortable tone in Madock’s voice. He wasn’t sure how to speak to Fin about Erestor or their relationship. The elf was slightly perturbed by this. “What Erestor and I share is no different than what you had with your wife. You are lucky, though. No matter how much you miss your wife, you cannot fade from sorrow. Your heart has the ability to love again. It is not like that for the elves. Once we give ourselves to someone, once they own our soul, we are bound. Break that bond, and we lose the will to live.”

“Do you think Men can just forget about their deceased loved ones and move on without any grief?” Madock said, tone raised in anger. “My wife was everything to me. She was my friend, my lover, mother to my children. Every day without her has been an agonizing existence. She haunts my dreams, and when I wake, I could swear can smell her, and feel her ghostly warmth where she used to sleep next to me. You talk of fading from sorrow, Lord Glorfindel. Well, some days I wish I could. But then I look at my daughters, and I see their mother in their faces, and I know without a doubt that I live now for them. So do not speak to me about bonds and the soul. Mine are just as strong as yours.” Not wanting to talk to the elf anymore, Madock got up and left the room. Before he closed the door, he glanced back. “Get some rest Master elf. Breakfast is at sunrise. And if you need my assistance during the night, do not hesitate to call upon me.” The doctor closed the door and Erestor’s room fell silent.

The night passed on, and there was no sign of Erestor waking. He seemed to not be in any pain. Healing sleep had its fingers dug in deep. The counselor was doing what needed to be done until he was well enough to wake, so Fin waited and wondered. Why was Erestor going to Bree? Why alone? But what weighed most heavily was Lastar’s name uttered from his lips. A year had gone by with no mention of Lastar. Why now? And why not Fin’s name, he thought selfishly to himself. The elf lord was bothered by this, though he knew he shouldn’t be. Lastar was gone from this world. Had there been unfinished business? Glorfindel wondered what it could be. Everything seemed fine now. Erestor and Glorfindel were happy. They’d been inseparable. Fin had given up his home and moved in with Erestor. Life was good. So why was he irritated by a name uttered in unconscious dreams?

Glorfindel looked at the light knifing through the thick curtains. Morning came on silently. He hadn’t even noticed. It seemed like he had only been sitting there for a few moments. He got up and leaned over Erestor. The tip of his finger traced Erestor’s ear, his jaw, and across his lips. “I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, but remember that you are mine, and you always will be. Come back to me, Meldanya. I miss you. I need you. I love you more than life.”

He left Erestor’s room and walked down the hall. From the parlor, there was another hall that led to the main part of the house. Light illuminated the end of the hall. That must be where the kitchen was. Madock said breakfast was at first light. Glorfindel’s mind was set on finding the man who rescued Erestor, but he knew not where the hunter lived. He needed to speak with Madock. He needed to apologize, too.

He poked his head in through the open door, and found the doctor preparing breakfast for the household. At the table were the man’s daughters. Madock heard one of the girls gasp, and he looked up to regard Glorfindel momentarily before returning to his frying sausage. “Come join us for a bite this morning, Lord Glorfindel, and meet my family.”

Glorfindel could not refuse, and came into the kitchen. It was small as compared to Erestor’s, but it served its purpose. There was a stove, a counter for preparing meals, a window overlooking a weed-filled garden, and a table and chairs where two young girls sat watching the elf in awe. The air smelled of frying meat and bread. It smelled quite delicious, actually, and Fin hadn’t realized just how hungry he was.

Madock took the skillet from the stove and brought it to the table. He put a link on each of the girls’ plates and one on his own. “Get another setting,” he politely told the older girl, and she jumped up and went to the cupboard to retrieve another plate, knife and fork. Madock glanced at Glorfindel and nodded to the empty chair. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Glorfindel said as he sat down. “It smells delightful.”

Madock was at the stove again. “Just a moment, and I’ll have some eggs fried up.”

“Don’t go to any trouble on my account,” Glorfindel said.

“Papa always makes eggs,” said the older daughter. “It’s Ella’s favorite.”

Glorfindel smiled at the girls, and turned his attention to the youngest. She was small and light of frame, blond hair that must be like her mother’s, long and straight. “You must be Ella, then. That is a very pretty name.”

“You’re the tallest man I’ve ever seen,” replied the young child. She could not be more than six or seven, Fin thought. Too young to be without a mother.

“He’s not a man, Ella,” said the older girl. Her hair and her eyes were brown like her father’s. “He’s an elf.” Her stern tone gave away her need to take over their deceased mother’s role for the family.

“I know that,” countered Ella, clearly irritated with her sister. “I was just saying that he was tall, taller than Papa.”

Glorfindel’s attention went to the older girl. “Might I know your name?”

“I’m Carys,” she said with suspicion. She seemed wary of the gilded stranger, and Fin remembered his threatening entrance into the family’s home the day before.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Glorfindel said politely. “And I am sorry if I frightened either of you yesterday.”

“I explained to the girls that you had traveled far, and that you were very worried about my patient,” Madock said from the stove.

“He’s been asleep for a long time,” Ella commented as she pushed her sausage around the plate with her finger.

“Do you know him?” Carys asked.

“Yes, I do. He’s my friend, and I’ve come to see that he heals so he can come home with me.”

“Our papa is the best doctor in Middle-earth. You shouldn’t worry for your friend,” said Ella.

Madock smiled and quietly laughed in the background. Then he came to the table and dished out the eggs into each plate. He had a seat and everyone dug into their plates.

“Lord Glorfindel is from Rivendell,” Madock told his girls.

“I’ve always dreamed of seeing Rivendell,” Carys said, finally deciding that Glorfindel was friend not foe. “Is it as beautiful as people say it is?”

“Stunningly so,” Glorfindel answered with a smile as he took another bite of sausage.

The girls asked many questions about the elves and Rivendell, and about the mysterious elf that their father was taking care of. Glorfindel answered their inquiries until Madock put a stop to their interrogating. “Let our guest eat in peace, girls.”

“It’s quite alright. I don’t mind answering their questions,” Glorfindel said.

“It’s a diversionary tactic to get out of doing their chores,” Madock said, leaning forward as if to whisper a secret.

Glorfindel could see that it was true. The girls had finished their meal a while ago. But they had seemed generally interested in his home, and talking about Imladris made him feel a little closer to it. He’d been in Lothlórien for a while. Home was beginning to sound good.

“Clean your plates and get going. Carys, make sure you sister is ready for her lessons. And then I need you to run to the apothecary and get those herbs for me.”

“Yes Papa,” Carys answered obediently, if not a bit defiantly. The girls did as they were told and left the kitchen.

Madock took up his plate and Glorfindel’s, and went to the basin to wash them and put them away. Glorfindel stood from the table. He was about to ask about the man named Arwel, but the doctor spoke first. “I want to apologize for my behavior last night. I know you did not mean anything by your comment. It was late and the brandy hit me the wrong way.”

“It was an emotional and tiring day for myself, too,” Glorfindel said. “It’s all behind us, so no worries.”

Madock finished drying the plates and stacked them on the shelf in the cupboard. “I suppose you’ll be wanting directions to Arwel’s house?”

“If you don’t mind,” said Glorfindel, and the good doctor told him how to get there. He started to leave the kitchen, but Madock stopped him.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to be here when Erestor woke? Aren’t you worried he might wake while you are gone?” Madock asked.

“I don’t think he is ready yet. I looked at some of the wounds last night. It might be another day or two. But if he does start to wake, tell him I am here and I will return shortly.” Glorfindel bowed, hand over heart, his long golden waves falling forward and framing his handsome face. “I’ll just look in on him once more before I go. Thank you for the food.” Madock nodded and gave a smile.

Glorfindel went back to Erestor’s room to retrieve his cloak. He sat on the edge of the bed, and gently combed his fingers through Erestor’s ebony hair, now unbound. “I’ll return in a bit.” He picked up Erestor’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the counselor’s knuckles. “Hurry back to me, Meldanya.”

When he stood and turned to leave, Carys was standing at the edge of the door, peeking around the corner. Glorfindel called to her, and after a moment, she showed herself. Now standing in the doorway, Glorfindel guessed that she must have been about twelve or thirteen years old, at an age when a girl needed her mother, though was there ever an age when a child didn’t need their parent?

“Does your father ever let you help with his patients?” Glorfindel asked.

“Sometimes, but not usually. I helped him put the bandages on your friend, though.”

“You did a splendid job,” Glorfindel smiled.

“Why hasn’t he awakened yet?” Carys asked.

“Elves have a special ability to help themselves heal, but we cannot do that while we are awake. So we go into something called a healing sleep. It allows our bodies to focus all its energy on the wounds so that they heal quickly.”

“And his wounds were pretty bad, so he’ll sleep for a while?” she asked, and Glorfindel nodded. “What was that word you used just now? What did you call him?” Carys asked curiously.

“Meldanya,” Glorfindel repeated in a strong elvish accent.

“What does it mean?”

“It is an endearment. It means, my dear.”

“Oh,” she said, unsure what else to say.

“He is a very dear friend,” Glorfindel warranted.

“I think that he must be more than a friend by the way that you held his hand. Papa used to do that with Mama, when she was alive.” The sadness in her voice was unmistakable.

“You must miss her terribly.”

Carys nodded, and then she looked up into Fin’s blue eyes. “Last night was the first time that my sister slept through the night without waking or crying herself to sleep. I told her it was because you were here. The elves aren’t scared of anything, and the monsters sense that so they stay away.”

“Are you still afraid of the monsters too?” Glorfindel asked.

“Sometimes, but I can’t let my sister see or she’ll become even more frightened.”

It tore at Glorfindel’s heart that these children were still afraid of the things that they’d seen in Gondor. “Child, don’t you know that they are all gone by now? They were destroyed along with all the dark ones. They can’t hurt you now.”

“That’s what Papa tells us, but sometimes we still see them with our eyes closed.” Carys stepped back into the hallway. “I better let you go.” She trotted off.

Glorfindel stood there a moment, looking over his shoulder at Erestor’s sleeping form. Were there still monsters behind his closed eyes, too?

* * *

Arwel happened to be home, though it looked like he was preparing to head out soon. There was a bag, a full quiver, and a sturdy bow of Woodsmen make sitting next to the front door. Glorfindel introduced himself, and Arwel happily let him into his home. It was a small one room house with a wood burning stove. Arwel lived alone and made his living by supplying meat for certain businesses around town.

“I go out every day,” he told Glorfindel as they sat at a small table near the stove. The lantern revealed many deep grooves in the wood where a hunter might have cleaned his catch. The man led a simple yet solitary life, one Glorfindel had led many long years ago when he first came to Middle-earth after his re-embodiment. He couldn’t imagine living like that now. Without Erestor, there was no life.

“Just so happens on that particular morning, I decided to go further south than usual. I don’t know what made me decide, but I’m glad I did. I’d heard the pack howling earlier the day before. There’d been sightings of them too, an aggressive bunch. And they were honing in on my business, scaring off all the good hunting animals and such. I knew I’d have to deal with them sooner or later, or there’d be no animals worth hunting. People pay heartily for wild boar and venison. Anything smaller takes too many for less money.”

“And where did you come across Erestor?” Glorfindel asked to get the man back on the subject.

“Well, it was later in the day. As I said, I’d gone further south than I liked. I’d caught a couple conies, and thought I’d use the creek to clean them. I get more for them when they’re already gutted. That’s when I came across them. The elf, your friend, was laying half in the water with his head propped up against what I thought was one of the dead wolves. But at a closer look, I could see that it was a dog, a big ol’ wolf hound. I figured it belonged to him. The dog was still alive, and so was the elf. I had my own hunting dogs with me, and left them to guard the survivors while I went back for help. Your friend was unconscious and he’s a tall fellow like yourself. There was no possible way I was going to carry him to town. I rounded up some friends and we got him and his dog back here to Madock’s place. Been there ever since, and still out cold. How’s he doing, by the way?”

“He still remains in a healing sleep, but his wounds are much better.” Glorfindel looked over the man’s shoulder. “The dog, is she here?”

“Yes, she’s out back with my pack. Young, that one. Not even a year yet, but big for her size. She had some serious bite marks and some lacerations, but it wasn’t nothing I couldn’t tend to. The bad news is that she broke her hind leg. I fixed it as best I could, set the bone and wrapped it up tight. She’ll still be able to walk, but she won’t be much good for hunting anymore. Might have a limp from here on out.”

“Well, the good thing is that she’s alive,” Glorfindel said.

“That she is, my sir. That she is. Come on out back, and I’ll get you two reacquainted. I’m sure she’ll be glad to go home,” Arwel said, and he led the way out of the back of the house.

Glorfindel followed Arwel outside to a fenced area where the dogs were kept. There she was, Léra, and much bigger than Fin remembered. He’d been away for a while though, and she’d still been small when he saw her last. He whistled and Léra’s ears perked up. She remembered him, and came to him, tail wagging despite her bandaged leg. The poor thing limped, ears held back as though she was ashamed for him to see her like this. Glorfindel got on his knees, and gently pet her, careful not to hurt her tender wounds.

“Ai, Léra, good girl,” he cooed and she licked him. “You did good, protecting Erestor. Ai, we’ll go home soon.”

“You can take her with you if you like,” Arwel called from the other side of the yard. “She might be slow to travel.”

Glorfindel nodded, but something else came to mind. “Erestor was on horseback. Do you know if someone found his mare? Brown, with a wheat colored mane and tail.”

“That I do know. She’s at the stables near the gates. The hostler said she was unmanageable at first, spooked from the events. Has a real fear of dogs, too. Can’t say that I blame her after being coerced by such an aggressive pack of wolves. And once a horse has had such a traumatic experience as this, they never are quite right afterwards.”

Glorfindel would give some thought to leaving the mare in Bree. He never agreed with Erestor’s choice to buy the animal. Now, she’d be put to better use within the city rather than traveling the wilds. But there’d be time for that later. For now, he needed to get back to the doctor’s house and see Erestor. He didn’t want to stay away for too long, least he wake in his absence.


	5. Chapter 5

The last thing Erestor remembered was the scent of earth and blood, the sound of wolves snarling, and a blur of hair and teeth. He’d been in severe pain, and his memory blocked out anything else that might have happened after that. As far as he knew, it just happened, though it could have been minutes, hours or days since then. He blinked his eyes against the brightness of the light, adjusting his vision until he saw that he was laying on the forest floor. The air smelled clean and fresh, like early spring after a morning rain. Something surrounded him. Ferns, their bright green fronds extending towards the sun. He was in a fern forest, but it wasn’t the last place he remembered being. That had been . . .

“The creek,” he said aloud. “There was a creek.” But he heard no sound of water. “And there had been pain, a lot of pain.”

He examined his arms, expecting to find wounds, and noticed that he was dressed in white robes, spotless and clean, smelling freshly laundered. Erestor sat up and looked around the area. “Where am I?”

Sitting up had made his head pound, and with it, flashes of violence and blood. He could feel the weight of Aicalango in his hand, and felt the brush of fur against his arms. His breath quickened as he remembered where he’d been before this. “Wolves,” he said, panicked. Were they still about? His arm reached out and he felt the ground around him, searching for his sword. He could almost feel the hot fetid breath of his attacker on his neck, and was sure that something was behind him. With the speed of a feline, he jumped to his feet and spun around, his fingers curled like claws, his only form of defense. Erestor twisted and turned, eyes scanning the surrounding area for the beasts that assaulted him and his horse. Then he remembered the horse running off, leaving him open to the attack. It had happened at a creek while making his way to . . .

“Bree,” he said. But this was not Bree, and there was no forest like this one between Rivendell and there. Had he been dragged off by the wolves? He thought irrationally. Then he looked at his clothes again. “Where did these come from?” They were not his riding clothes. He took a step forward and noticed that even his boots were white, and he wondered where his riding boots were. They had been a gift from Glorfindel. He could not lose them.

Erestor walked out of the fern covered forest and found a worn path, possibly made by deer or some other animal. It was too winding to be made by the elves. He followed it, hoping to find a familiar place, but the area still looked strange. Soon, he heard the sound of rushing water, and thought he’d found the creek, though none of this looked right. He hurried along the path, following the sound and came to an outcrop of rocks. When he turned the corner, he found that the water he was following was not the creek where he’d been, but a vast ocean. The sound of running water changed to waves lapping at the shore. Erestor was thoroughly confused. There was no ocean anywhere close to where he’d been.

He glanced out over the water and saw a shape bobbing in the distance. Erestor squint his eyes and tried to make it out, but it was too far away. “Where am I?” he asked himself, looking back at the land. There was nothing there. Even the rock formation had disappeared. When he turned back to the sea, the shape he’d seen was twice as close as before. “How did that move so fast?” he said confused. At least now he could see that it was a small boat. It looked too small to be out on the sea. The waves looked dangerously big, swelling with each one that traveled to the shore. Erestor felt water on his feet, and looked down to find that he was standing knee deep in the waves, where before he was standing on sand. He looked up again, and the small white boat had run ashore to his left. Erestor shook his head. “That isn’t possible. It had just been way out there and–”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around reaching down for a sword that was no longer at his side. Then he nearly fainted at the site he saw.

He was ethereal beauty, glowing with iridescent light surrounding him, almost blinding the counselor. He shined so brightly that Erestor could hardly see his face, yet he seemed familiar. “Who are you?” Erestor asked. The light dimmed and Erestor gasped, stumbling backwards with shock. That face, that smile was unforgettable.

“Hello, Erestor,” he said.

“Lastar,” Erestor said with astonishment. “But it can’t be. You … you died.”

“Yes, but I’ve been sent to meet you here.” His voice seemed strange, far away even though he was standing right in front of Erestor.

“Where is here? This is not Rivendell or Bree, or anywhere in between.”

“This is the edge of consciousness, Erestor.”

“I … I don’t understand.”

“I see you have been badly wounded,” Lastar said, brows creasing as he looked at Erestor’s neck and arms.

Erestor looked down and he was no longer dressed in the pure white robes. He was once again wearing his riding clothes, only now they were tattered and torn, stained with dirt and blood. Where the material was ripped, he could see his wounds, deep gashes and bite marks, flesh reddened and swollen with the threat of infection. The pain came back instantly, and Erestor dropped to his knees in the shallow tide. A tear escaped the corner of his eye as he looked at his injuries.

“I was hunted by a pack of wolves. They chased my horse away and then they attacked me. But I thought I’d killed them. I thought I–”

“You did kill them and you survived, but at a great cost. Your healer has treated you and thinks you will recover, but he has not considered your soul,” Lastar said.

“My soul? But what does that have to do with–” Erestor paused, realization taking over. Then he looked to Lastar’s flawless face. “Have I broken some kind of rule or something? Am I being punished?”

Lastar smiled sweetly. “Dear Erestor, this is no punishment. You have put yourself here, for the guilt you carry has been a heavy burden.”

“Guilt?”

“Look deep, Counselor. Some things have not been resolved, and you suffer because of that.”

“This has everything to do with that night at the waterfall,” Erestor said, hanging his head. “I’ve hurt you, haven’t I? I knew I should never have given in.” He reached for Lastar’s hands. He could see them in his own, but he couldn’t feel anything but air. The sensation shocked Erestor. “Are you not real?”

“I am real, but I come to you in my earthly form, for this is how you remember me. Within Mandos Hall, I am nothing more than a speck of light, a soul awaiting my trial.” Lastar lifted Erestor to his feet and looked him in the eyes. “I knew what would happen to you in the forest. I saw your fate already woven into Vairë’s tapestry. I knew you would fight the wolves, and I knew you would fall, but it had been too late. Your fate was already in motion. I watched and I begged them to give you strength. I told them that it was not your time yet. They met me with resistance, but I would not succumb to them. And just before it was to be your end, the Doomsman appeared and asked me why. Why did I interfere with the weavings? My explanations were not a good enough reason, but when I told him how your death would affect others, he gave me his attention.”

“Glorfindel?” Erestor questioned. He was the only person who could be deeply affected by Erestor’s death.

“He is well known here. He spent time within the Halls. It was Námo who sent him back to earth to complete his purpose.” Lastar floated towards Erestor, his opaque hands cupping the counselors face. “It was you all along, Erestor. You are the answer to Glorfindel’s inquiries as to why he was sent back. First, he had to face the guilt he compiled over his re-embodiment. Only when he had come to terms with his existence could he open his heart completely, and you are his reward. But your fate was written long before either of you knew who the other was. Now it is your turn, Erestor. You must face your own guilt and choose. That is the Doomsman’s terms. But know that your choice, whichever it will be, shall come with a price.”

“And if I choose to succumb to my injuries?” Erestor asked.

“Námo will accept you into his Halls,” Lastar said. “There you will await trial of your soul.”

Erestor knew what this meant. The Halls of Mandos would be his eternity if that was to be his fate. The Doomsman did not grant leave to many in his company.

“But know this,” Lastar continued. “Glorfindel will also succumb to his sorrow, and those who fade shall spend eternity in Valinor. There is no guarantee that you will ever join him there.”

“Then I choose to live,” Erestor decided. He could not stand the thought of never seeing Glorfindel again. It would be torturous.

“That you may do, Counselor, but you must confess the truth to Glorfindel about–” Lastar released Erestor and turned from him. “You must tell him about our night together and let him make his own decision.”

“But I … I can’t,” Erestor whispered.

“You must,” Lastar answered and rounded on the counselor. “When Námo gave you a second chance, he forbade Vairë to remove your life story from her tapestry. If you awake and say nothing to Glorfindel, a different ending will be written for you. You will still die. You will never have hope of leaving Mandos Halls. You’ll never see Glorfindel again. Your sorrow will be great.” Lastar took up Erestor’s hands, his eyes fastening on the counselor’s. “Put your faith in the truth. Trust that all will be well. If this love you share with Glorfindel is as timeless as you say, then he will forgive you, but you cannot continue to carry the burden. You know as well as I that there can be no more secrets.”

Erestor looked away and nodded. Yes, he had known this for a long time now, but he chose to ignore it and move on. “It didn’t seem like a secret since it was only one night, and you are … not there anymore.”

“Am I not still in your heart, if only just a piece of it?” Lastar asked, his smooth voice echoing in Erestor’s mind.

“You are, Lastar.”

“And I said that I’d always be there for you.”

“Even in death, it seems,” Erestor said, and he brought his attention to the ghostly vision again. “Is this your punishment? Is it a test?”

“What do you mean?” Lastar asked.

“Your reason for being here. Why were you sent to deliver this message and not someone else?” Erestor looked away when he thought he heard something.

“It is my price for asking Námo to spare you,” Lastar answered. 

Erestor smiled but sadly. “I do miss you Lastar.” He started to turn away, but stopped. “Can you tell me one more thing?” Lastar nodded and Erestor went on. “What did Námo do to change my fate?”

Lastar laughed with a huff. “He sent the dog, of course.”

“Léra?” Erestor said confused, and then he heard something and looked away to see what it was. When he looked back, Lastar was floating out to sea in the white boat. “Lastar, where are you going? Lastar! Wait! How do I get back? Lastar! Lastar!” It was too late. He slowly faded from sight and the ocean was once again vast and empty.

Then there was a distant voice coming from the fern covered forest. Hadn’t he been surrounded by sand? He could have sworn . . . Or had the trees been there all this time? Erestor wondered. He heard the voice again and listened carefully.

“Come back to me, Meldanya,” Glorfindel’s ethereal voice said. “Wherever you are, remember that you are mine.”

The sound of waves was gone and Erestor was no longer standing in water. The green ferns surrounded his feet. He was deep inside the forest once more.

Erestor looked down at his clothes, and he was once again dressed in the pristine white robes, but blood from his wounds seeped through the material and spread up his arms and down his thighs. “I don’t think it is time to wake yet, but I’ll take this time to make my decision.” It didn’t seem like there was much to think about. He wanted to live and he wanted to be with Fin. But would Fin still want him after he told him about the night he’d spent with Lastar behind the waterfall? What would happen to him if the elf lord rejected him? It might still cost him a trip to Mandos Halls. On the other hand, his conscience would be clear. Ai, what a price to have to pay, he thought as he laid down in the ferns and went to sleep.

* * *

Glorfindel lightly slept in the chair next to where Erestor lay. He had been in Bree for three days now. It had been two weeks since the attack, and Erestor still hadn’t awakened. He felt it would be soon though. Erestor stirred more often, a sign that he was coming to the end of his healing sleep.

The doctor had been more than generous in allowing Glorfindel to stay in his home. The girls had gotten to know the elf better, and he found that he was rather fond on them also. He would tell them stories from his days in Gondolin, and they would sit and listen for as long as he talked, eyes wide with wonder as they soaked up every detail and recorded it to memory. Glorfindel could see why humans passed down their history through spoken words more often than written ones. The children were the future storytellers. They were like sponges absorbing every bit of information, drawing pictures in their minds. One day they would grow up and tell their own children, and the histories of Men would live on from one generation to the next. Perhaps they would tell Glorfindel’s stories now. He smiled at the thought.

The sun was rising, the last vestiges of darkness giving way to light. Glorfindel opened his eyes and watched Erestor from his chair. By the gods, he was lovely when he slept. He hadn’t told Erestor, but Glorfindel had sketched him sleeping a few times. Drawing was his favorite pastime, and Erestor was the perfect subject. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told the counselor or showed him the drawings. Perhaps Fin wanted to keep these quiet peaceful times for himself while Erestor was lost to dreams. What was he dreaming of now, Fin wondered.

There was a soft tap on the door and Madock came in. “How’s my patient?”

“Restful,” Glorfindel said, getting up from the chair.

Madock went to the bed, pulled back the covers and began unwrapping the bandages. He found little blood on them, a good sign that the deep wounds were coming along nicely. “Nothing is worse than animal bites. They are the longest to heal. I’d say Erestor is making remarkable progress though. I wish I could bottle whatever it is that helps the elves heal so fast. I’d be a rich man.”

Just then, Ella and Carys came in, hugged their father, kissed his cheeks, waved to Glorfindel and left. Fin smiled to Madock. “You already are a rich man.”

As the doctor finished putting clean bandages on, Erestor stirred and moaned. Glorfindel dashed to his side, placing his hand upon the counselor’s chest, over his heart. “Erestor,” he whispered. “I’m here, Meldanya.”

Erestor’s brows creased and his head lolled from one side of the pillow to the other. It looked like he was struggling to wake. His eyes beneath closed lids moved rapidly. He moaned as though trying to speak.

“Wake now, lovely.” Glorfindel encouraged. “It has been far too long since I’ve seen those hazel eyes.”

“F … F … Fin?” Erestor finally managed to say.

“Yes, I’m here, Erestor.”

“Glorfindel,” Erestor said. His eyes cracked open and blinked against the dim lantern light. “Fin,” he said again.

“Meldanya. Ai, Erestor how I’ve missed you.”

“Wh … where am I?”

“You are in a house in Bree. A doctor’s house to be precise,” Glorfindel informed him.

Erestor turned his head to the other side and saw a man standing by his bed. “Doctor?”

“I am Madock. Nice to finally meet you, Erestor.”

“How am I, master healer?”

The doctor laughed lightly. “Just Madock will do. You’re wounds are on the mend. I suspect you’ll be a bit sore and very weak, but you are doing just fine.”

Erestor turned back to Glorfindel. “Why are you not in Lothlórien?”

“What, and let you have all the fun? I think not,” Glorfindel chortled. He leaned down and kissed Erestor’s forehead. “I came as soon as I heard, and I’ve been waiting for you to wake. How do you feel, Meldanya?”

“I feel like shit, what do you think?” Erestor complained with an ill-tempered tongue.

“Well doctor, he sounds like his old self,” Glorfindel stated. He looked down at Erestor. “Mind telling me just what you were doing traveling to Bree without company?”

“I am not well enough to bandy with you,” Erestor said. “Now, help me sit up.”

Glorfindel took Erestor by the arm and helped him up while Madock added pillows behind him. Erestor winced from the slightest of movement. “Did someone use me as a practice dummy while I was asleep? Ai, my ribs are sore.”

“You’ve suffered some bruising from your misadventure,” Madock said. “Do you remember anything that happened?”

“I remember that damn horse throwing me, and landing on a rock in the creek bed. And the wolves scared my horse off, leaving me to defend myself. I swear, if I ever see that horse seller again–”

“What else do you remember?” Glorfindel asked to get Erestor back on the subject.

“I … I fought the wolves. Bastards were using me as a training tool,” Erestor complained. “Well, a lot of good that did them. I killed them, all but one, the pack leader. She came at me, went straight for my throat, but I held her off. My arms, I couldn’t hold out for much longer, and then there was a … there was a–” Erestor stopped himself as the memories came rushing back. He gasped. “Léra! She was there. She saved me. She jumped on the wolf, sending it flying from my chest. I was hurt badly, and could hardly move, but I managed to see Léra fighting with the pack leader. And then there was an awful noise, yelping and howling. I was sure she was dead, but she wasn’t. Léra killed the wolf, and she was still breathing and . . . Where is she? Is she alive?”

Glorfindel smoothed Erestor’s hair down. “She is fine. I’ve brought her here.”

Erestor forced himself to sit up further so he could look around the room. “I want to see for myself. Where is she?”

“She is about. But Erestor, you should know.” Glorfindel paused and sighed. “Her leg was badly injured, and she may always walk with a limp. She’ll never be able to hunt as you wished for her. But she is alive and well.”

Erestor released his breath and hung his head. “Thank the Valar she’s–” His words made him stop. The Valar, he thought to himself, and it all came flooding back … the fern forest, the ocean and the little white boat … Lastar. “Námo sent her to me,” he blurted out.

Glorfindel and Madock gave each other befuddled looks. Then they turned their attention back to Erestor. “Námo?” Glorfindel asked. He raised an ambiguous brow. “It seems you still need some time to come around. You know not of what you speak. Wasn’t Léra already with you?”

“No, Glorfindel, she wasn’t,” Erestor demanded. His words all came rushing out as the memories came back like a tidal wave. “You see, she destroyed the documents, and I threw her outside. Then she was gone, and I thought I’d come to Bree and see the bookkeeper, but the wolves . . . And then I awoke in the ferns, and there was an ocean and a boat, and then Lastar was there and–”

The mention of the name made Glorfindel stop him. “Wait, Lastar?”

“Yes, he came to me, and he told me that he saw me and the wolves, and he asked Námo to help me. It was to be my end. He said Vairë weaved my story long ago.” Erestor spoke with desperation to tell his strange story. He still hadn’t remembered all of it, but suddenly he remembered the most important part. He brought his hand up and covered his mouth, eyes full of fear and worry.

“What is it, Erestor? What happened?” Glorfindel asked him.

“I … I can’t remember. It’s still too fuzzy in my head.” But he did remember. He must tell Glorfindel about Lastar or go to Mandos Halls forever.

“Lie back down, Meldanya. You’ve only just awakened. Give it some time and it will come to you.” Glorfindel helped him get comfortable in the pillows while Madock looked on in amazement.

“How about some tea,” Madock offered, and Erestor nodded. The doctor left the elves to themselves.

Now that they were alone, Glorfindel leaned down and kissed Erestor, filling himself with the warmth of his lover’s touch. “By the gods, Erestor, I missed you something terrible. When I heard what happened, it was like a part of me was ripped away. And when I saw you lying here, so weak and frail, I was so scared. I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

“I’m sorry,” Erestor whispered as he looked away.

“What happened that you decided to come to Bree?” Glorfindel wanted to get to the bottom of it. He was tired of guessing.

Erestor proceeded to tell him, slowly this time, everything that happened that led up to this moment. He told Fin about Léra destroying the precious documents, and putting her outside as punishment, of how she disappeared and his guilt. Then he told Glorfindel about his plans to come to Bree and speak with Oswin about replacing the documents with a copy. Erestor told him that he waited, until Glorfindel sent the letter about his extended stay in Lothlórien, so he decided to go on his way … alone. He knew now that it was a foolish thing to do, but Glorfindel paused to reprimand him for his irrational thinking. That led Erestor to tell him about the wolves and the attack, but he did not go into much detail. It was still too soon to recall it, and Glorfindel did not push him.

Erestor skimmed over the part about his dreams. He was not ready to speak of it in full. He only gave the basic details of waking in the ferns, finding himself dressed in white, and of finding himself on the shore of an ocean. He talked about the boat and Lastar coming to him, but he did not say anything about their discussion, only that Lastar asked for Erestor’s life to be spared and it was.

When he was through, Glorfindel took a seat at the foot of the bed, and searched the plain white sheets for his next words. “Funny that you should mention Lastar, because you called out to him in your sleep.”

“I did?” Erestor seemed surprised by this.

“Yes, you called for him several times, and now you tell me that he came to you in dreams. Why?”

“Glorfindel, I … I can’t talk about this right now,” Erestor said, trying to buy himself a little more time.

“There is something you are not telling me, Erestor,” Glorfindel said. His tone gave him away. He would not let it rest until he had an answer. “Why would Lastar visit you if it wasn’t something important?”

“I told you already that it was to be my time, but Lastar intervened so that I might have a second chance.”

“You forget that I spent time in the Halls of Mandos. I know how things work there, and if Lastar risked coming to you with a message, then it had to be important.” Fin was having no more of Erestor’s games.

“Glorfindel, I … I cannot tell you right now. I’m so tired and the story is long. Please, allow me to recover first?” Erestor asked.

Fin’s eyes turned to slits as he regarded Erestor. “He tried to make you stay, didn’t he. He wanted you to follow him back to the Halls.”

“No, it was nothing like that. Listen, it was probably all just an illusion. You said the doctor gave me something for the pain. That’s probably why–”

Madock reentered the room, and the elves ceased their discussion. Glorfindel glared and whispered, “This conversation is not over.”

“Everything alright?” Madock asked, setting the tea tray on a table.

“Fine,” Erestor said with a smile. His eyes turned to Glorfindel, who was not smiling. For the next hour, Erestor found ways to make Madock stay so that he could take the time to get his thoughts together. How would he ever tell Fin about Lastar? Perhaps he would wait until they returned to Rivendell.

* * *

The next morning, Madock was changing Erestor’s bandages when he noticed that the bite marks on his left arm were looking a little redder than they had the day before. “Hmm,” he said while examining the wounds.

“What?” Erestor said worriedly, following the doctor’s line of sight. “Oh,” he said when he saw the red skin. “Is that normal?”

“If it had just happened a couple days ago, then yes, but we are almost three weeks from the day of the attack. If your wounds are turning red now, it can only mean that infection has set in down deep where I could not see it before.”

“Can’t you just put some extra salve on it and bandage it back up?” Erestor asked.

“If it looks like this now, on the surface, then that means it’s been festering in the deep tissue. Erestor, you could be in real trouble. I might have to cut away the infected tissue or muscle, and if it’s into the bone, which I pray it isn’t, then you could lose your arm.”

How was this possible? He was healing well. The wounds were looking clean. And now they were showing signs of infection? What had happened?

“Let me see something,” Madock said and unwrapped the bandages around Erestor’s thigh. He didn’t have to say anything. The look on the doctor’s face was enough for Erestor to figure out that it was not good news. Madock shook his head. “I don’t understand. You were almost completely healed, and now–”

The door to Erestor’s room opened, and Glorfindel strolled in with a tray of food for their breakfast. Right away he could tell something had happened. He dropped the tray on the table and rushed to the bed. “What is it?”

Madock shook his head with confusion. “I don’t understand it. He was healing.”

Glorfindel looked for himself and saw the angry welts around the puncture wounds on Erestor’s arm and thigh. “This makes no sense.”

But it made perfect sense to Erestor. It was Námo rewriting his death. Instead of succumbing to the wolves and dying in the woods, he was going to die here in the doctor’s home, unless he could find a way to explain to Glorfindel about–

“I thought I’d have more time,” Erestor said, not realizing he’d spoken aloud.

“Time for what?” Glorfindel asked.

Erestor turned his eyes towards Madock. “Could you give us some time alone? There is something I need to discuss with Lord Glorfindel.”

“Of course,” Madock said with a bow, and he left, closing the door behind him.

“Sit,” Erestor commanded, pointing to the chair, and Glorfindel sat.

“What’s this about?” Glorfindel asked cautiously.

“You were right. There was a reason for Lastar to come to me in healing dreams, and if I say nothing, it will be my end soon.”

“What are you talking about?”

Erestor swallowed the hard lump in his throat and came right out with it. “I slept with Lastar.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I slept with Lastar.” The words kept ringing in Erestor’s ears. Had he really just said them aloud?

“You what?” Glorfindel whispered with shock.

Erestor shook his head and looked away from Glorfindel, unable to meet his eyes. “It happened a year ago, the same night as the confrontation in the prison, the night Lastar lost his life.”

“You … were with him?” Glorfindel said disbelievingly.

Erestor was silent, but then whispered, “Yes.”

Glorfindel leaned forward in his chair, put his elbows on his knees, and held his head in his hands. “You … gave yourself to another?”

“I’m sorry, Fin.”

“Sorry? You think that means anything right now?” Glorfindel’s tone got louder. “You slept with someone else and you say sorry.”

“I don’t know what else to say.”

Glorfindel got up from the chair and paced the floor at the end of the bed a few times. He stopped and stood silent, staring at his feet. Erestor prepared himself for whatever Fin was about to say.

“How could you do this to us?” Glorfindel finally said in a calm and even tone.

“At the time there was no ‘us’,” Erestor said. It sounded like an insufficient reason, but it was the truth.

“How can you say this? I know we’ve had our moments, but–”

Erestor interrupted him. “Our moments? Is that what you would say about that time? You cast me from your side, and chose Astarion over me. You chose a monster over the one who gave you his very life force. You can’t even begin to imagine what that was like. Glorfindel, I was fading. I could feel my life being drained from me. My soul was dying. I didn’t want to go on without you.”

“Seems to me you recovered quickly,” Glorfindel said with venom.

“What happened between Lastar and me brought me back from my doomed path. You were gone, Fin. You had turned from me. There was nothing else to grab on to. Lastar extended his hand and his hope.”

“He extended a lot more than his hand,” Glorfindel said with ire.

Erestor was becoming upset, too. “Now see here–”

“No!” Glorfindel shouted, turning to Erestor, his eyes full of hurt and rage. “I will not let you turn this around and make it my fault. You do this every time, Erestor. You are the high and mighty Chief Counselor who can do no wrong, or who always has a reason. Not this time.” Glorfindel calmed himself before he went on, but he would not face Erestor. “We were both put in a difficult place back then. Our lives were being invaded, possessed by outside conflicts. I’ll admit that neither one of us made good decisions at the time. But even though I felt at times that I was being controlled by enemy forces, not once did I ever consider giving up and seeking comfort somewhere else. I would rather die a thousand deaths.”

“And I was facing just one death, and it was very real. You’ve never felt the pain of fading. It is the worst kind of all, because it’s done from the inside. These wounds,” Erestor said, taking off the bandages from his arm and exposing the red and irritated injuries. “These are nothing compared to the pain of one’s soul dying. It was excruciating, and it was all because you decided I should not be a part of your life anymore. The fact that you chose Astarion made it hurt even worse. It was great torture, and Lastar offered relief from that unbearable suffering. Yet I knew it would only be temporary, even though I tried to convince myself that I could start again and go on without you. Deep down I knew I couldn’t, and the moment I accepted that truth, I became desperate. I went to the prison to kill Astarion, because if you were going to let me fade, then I was going to take away the thing that made you come to that decision.”

Glorfindel hung his head, but his hands were clenched into fists. He turned away from Erestor, and looked as though he was making another decision, to stay and try to understand or to leave. He moved his head to the side, showing Erestor his profile. “Why didn’t you tell me from the start? When we were confessing our faults and making a new beginning together, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Come on, Fin,” Erestor said, defeated. “What would you have done? Can you honestly say you would have confessed to something like this? I told myself that if you should ask me, I would tell you the truth, but you didn’t, and I kept it to myself.”

“And why would I have ever asked that kind of thing when I never had any reason to doubt you? This was just a reason you gave yourself not to tell me. Again, you left it up to me instead of taking hold of the situation.”

It was at Glorfindel’s very words that Erestor finally understood his mistake. This was why Námo gave him an ultimatum. He could not live fully or die valiantly unless his conscience was clean. “You are right, Glorfindel. Námo was right also. I could not go on in either direction without confessing my wrongdoings. I’ve been a selfish unseeing fool. I’ve hurt you and I am truly sorry. I’ve paid my price to the Doomsman and I accept my fate.” Erestor looked at his arm, and a tear escaped the corner of his eye. “Perhaps Lastar should not have interfered with Vairë’s weaving. Then we would both be better off somehow.”

Glorfindel heard what Erestor said, but it made no sense. He was still too vexed to try to figure it out. He needed time away to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t look at Erestor, or speak to him, and without uttering a single word, he left the room.

Erestor slouched down in his bed and closed his eyes. “If this silence between us is to be my punishment, then I ask that these wounds open and bleed me dry, for I cannot stand this.”

Lastar’s words came back to Erestor as he drifted off to sleep. ‘Put your faith in the truth. Trust that all will be well. If this love you share with Glorfindel is as timeless as you say, then he will forgive you.’

* * *

As Glorfindel marched back to his quarters, he passed the sitting room where Madock was currently spending a quiet moment with Carys, his oldest child. He saw a flash of gold as the elf lord rushed by, and told his daughter to stay put. Then he went to Glorfindel’s guest room, finding the door open and the elf hurriedly packing up the few belongings he’d brought with him.

“Is something wrong? Has something happened?” Madock asked with concern.

“I’m leaving,” Glorfindel confirmed without looking up from his pack.

“Leaving? But what about Erestor? He cannot travel yet. He’s still mending.”

“I know and that’s why I’m going alone. Tell him to take my horse when he’s able to travel. I’ll take his, since she is still spooked and untrustworthy.” Glorfindel leaned over the bed and retrieved his sword, which he kept hidden while it was not needed.

“But you cannot just leave him here. He needs you, does he not?” Madock asked, thinking that Erestor’s quick recovery was due to his mate being at his side. “And what about these wounds that have begun to fester again. I’m worried about him. He could be very sick and in danger of losing his appendages.”

“If he’d lost one certain appendage a year ago, then we might not be in this situation right now,” Glorfindel muttered.

Madock felt like he was out of his league with this subject. He did not know much about elves in relationships with one of the same sex, but it couldn’t be all that much different, he thought. He went to Glorfindel and caught him by the wrist to gain his attention. Glorfindel’s muscles tensed, and the doctor felt the hidden strength that made an elf different from a man. “Please, before you do anything rash, come sit a moment and tell me what has happened. I’ve got something stronger than tea, and you seem like you need it.”

Glorfindel knew he needed to get out of this place, and go somewhere far from Erestor and his cheating ways. His anger had taken charge of his decisions, not the best time to come to any conclusions, but at least he felt like he was taking control. Still, Madock had been much too kind, and had sacrificed much for Fin’s upkeep, which the elf lord made note to reimburse him for. It didn’t feel right to leave in such a hurry after the doctor’s kindness. So he laid his sword on the bed, and his pack on top of that, and allowed the good doctor to lead him to the study.

This was a man’s room, no mistake, with dark wood panels covering the walls and bookshelves. There was a wooden box, the kind that kept good pipe weed fresh, and a tray with three intricately carved pipes. Next to that was a table with a bottle and a set of glasses, brandy to be sure. On the opposite side of the room was a fireplace and a set of swords hanging above the mantel. Two wood and leather chairs sat on each side of the small fireplace, awaiting the doctor and his company. Madock gestured to one of the chairs, and Glorfindel took a seat. The doctor closed the door for privacy. Then he went to the table with the brandy and poured two glasses. He gave one to Fin and took the other chair, sipped slowly, closed his eyes, and let the warmth of the brandy purl through his insides. Glorfindel watched him take great pleasure from the strong drink, and he seemed to relax and let go of his doctor’s façade. Madock looked more like a warrior now than before, a man finally come home after an extended stay at the borders. This was a man’s room indeed, a place for solitude from the everyday worries.

Glorfindel pointed to the swords hanging in a crisscrossed fashion over the hearth. “Are those your swords from the war?”

Madock nodded and smiled with pride. “They cut many an orc head from its miserable body, and have been covered with their fair share of black blood.”

“You sound as though you miss it,” Glorfindel said.

“You are a warrior, Lord Glorfindel. You know what it is like when you have not swung your sword in a long while. You may have fought in many wars, but there are long bouts of peace and silence in between. The hand tends to get … itchy.”

Glorfindel genuinely smiled at that analogy. He knew exactly what Madock meant. “It is nice to meet another soldier. I’ve been more of a negotiator than a warrior lately, and I do miss a good battle.”

“But we are entering the days of peace. I’m afraid our occupation may soon become a thing of the past, which is why I’ve fallen back on my healing abilities. I cannot take the risks that I once did.” Madock spoke with only a hint of sadness. He was a man who knew where his priorities lay.

“I take it that did not stop you when your wife was still alive,” Glorfindel said.

“Has it ever stopped any man who takes up a sword? When duty calls it is the soldier that everyone counts on for protection.” Madock shifted in his chair and took another sip. “If something happened to me now, who would care for my children?”

Glorfindel merely nodded as he thought about all the risks he had taken over the years. One such risk cost him his life, and yet here he was, re-embodied by the Valar. He had finally felt complete, but that changed only moments earlier with Erestor’s confession. How would he go on with this damage to his heart?

“When your wife died, how were you able to keep hope alive?” Glorfindel asked.

“I had my daughters to take care of. Everything I did, every choice I made was with them in mind,” Madock responded.

“And what about someone who has no other family to speak of? How can he move on when there is no one else to live for?” Glorfindel sounded like he was a million leagues from Bree as he spoke.

Madock observed the sullen elf lord before he asked, “What has happened between you and Erestor?”

Glorfindel drained his glass, closed his eyes as he swallowed and sighed. “He has confessed to being with another elf.”

Madock nodded slowly. “The one he called out to while he slept?”

“I’ve never been a jealous ellon, but something about Erestor makes me possessive. It always has, and to think that someone else knows him in a way that I thought only I did … well, I could slay a thousand orcs and not be rid of this anger.”

“And you are ready to throw away everything that you have built together,” Madock said.

“That’s the position I seem to be in.” Glorfindel set his empty glass down on a table positioned between the two chairs and leaned forward. “I can’t bring myself to even look at him. That’s why I must leave right away. I must put space between us or I may do something damaging.”

“I thought that’s what you were doing now.”

Glorfindel wasn’t sure where Madock was heading with the conversation, but he didn’t like the doctor’s cynical tone. “You would know nothing of it, Doctor,” he said with ire. “You had a loving wife who gave you two beautiful children, and though she is gone–”

“Only one child is mine,” Madock interrupted, taking Glorfindel by complete surprise. The elf lord’s mouth hung open unbecomingly. Madock picked up the decanter of brandy and poured two fresh glasses. “Let me tell you what I know about someone in your position. I have been there, you see.” He sat the decanter down and his mouth lifted on one side in a half smile. “Yes, you heard me correctly. Carys, she is mine. It’s obvious to look at her. Ella … well, I love her just the same, but she is not of my blood.”

“When did you know?” Glorfindel asked, wondering if it was after his wife died.

“Just before the attack on Minas Tirith. You see, I was becoming suspicious. As I said, I can look at Carys and see parts of myself in her eyes, nose and ears. Her hair is the same color as mine. I know she is mine. But Ella–

See, at first a child looks like any other child, but as they grow, parts of them begin to come together, like watching an artist paint a portrait. You see yourself or perhaps your parents or other distant relatives, different traits that mark the child as being from your bloodline. I watched and I waited anxiously to see who Ella would represent, but I never saw it. Then she turned an age where it should have been obvious, and there was nothing. Bits of my wife were there, her hair and her dimples, the sparkle in her eyes, but nothing of myself. I confronted my wife, who denied it of course. Perhaps I was wrong, but something deep down told me I wasn’t. I pushed my accusations on her until she finally confessed to sleeping with another man, a city guard. I had been away for a long time, and even when I was home, she said I was distant. Our marriage had been strained because of my duty to the army, you see. She was lonely. I was never there. She met a man who gave her the attention she craved, and Ella was born.

When she finally told me the truth, I was so angry, I thought I could spit blood. I behaved too hastily and told her to leave. Like you, I couldn’t stand to look at her. I wanted her as far away as possible. She took the girls and went to her father’s tailor shop, temporarily, until she could find a place of her own.”

Madock paused from telling his story, took a long drink, stood and went to the hearth. He picked up a poker and disturbed the glowing logs in the fire. Glorfindel got the feeling that the doctor hadn’t talked about this in a very long time, if ever. But he had felt comfortable enough to tell Fin. The elf was glad that Madock was trusting enough with his emotions to be able to share such a traumatic time in his life.

“Looking back, I should have been the one to leave, for if I had, my wife might still be alive. You see, she was on one of the lower levels of the city, one that was severely damaged after being breeched by the enemy. Her father told me that she hid the children in a crawl space beneath the floorboards in the back room. She helped him too, but by the time she was able to get herself down there, it was too late. The orcs burst in and killed her.”

Madock turned to face Glorfindel. “I know our stories are different, but my point is, I should never have acted in such a rash manner. I didn’t listen to her side of the story. I just pushed her away from me, condemned her, I guess you could say. And because of that, she died. Blinded by rage, I sought out the man who got her with child. To beat him to a pulp or to kill him, I hadn't decided. Instead, we talked, and I learned of her reason for cheating. She just wanted my attention, and though the pregnancy was a mistake, she passed it off as being mine in hopes of saving our love.”

He sat back down and gazed into the fire. “I guess what I’m saying is that it takes two to make a mistake like ours. The same can be said about you.”

“Me?” Glorfindel asked.

“Well, you don’t think Erestor went off with someone else by his own choice, do you? There is a cause to every action. Something must have led up to that moment. If you were both so perfectly content with each other, he’d have no reason to run off with another, or am I wrong about the male/male relationship.”

Glorfindel thought back to that time. “There was a reason why I pushed him away. I was trying to protect him, and with all that had happened … well, it was my burden to bear. I started it. I left it unfinished. It was my responsibility to end it. Erestor had nothing to do with it. I just wanted to make things right with my past, and keep Erestor unharmed in the process.”

“Seems to me that he was always involved, no matter how much distance you tried to put between you. Like my wife, he needed something to fill a void,” Madock said.

Glorfindel remained silent and thought about what the good doctor said, but his anger was overwhelming. Erestor should never have gone to Lastar. He should have come to Fin first. And then it hit him. “I wasn’t available to him.”

“The difference between you and me is that Erestor is still here. I can never reconcile with my wife, no matter how often I speak into the wind or visit her grave. That conversation will always be one sided.”

Glorfindel knew he was right, but things were too heated at the moment. “I … I just can’t bring myself to go to him right now. I need time to think, and I don’t need any distractions.” Glorfindel moved to the door of the study, and looked back at Madock. “I am grateful for your hospitality, and for all that you’ve done for Erestor. You are a good man, Madock, and you have two very lovely children. I wish I could stay longer, but I’m afraid I must go. Give Erestor my message. May the Valar continue to watch over you and your family.”

“Goodbye, my friend, and I wish you a safe journey home. I’ll take great care of Erestor for as long as he is here. And I do hope that you can find it within your heart to forgive him. You know as well as I, that if he did not care as deeply as you, he would not be in your life now.”

Glorfindel bowed, covering his heart with his hand, and left. He stopped at his quarters and retrieved his belongings. When he got to the front foyer, he paused and looked down the hall that led to the patient rooms. He still could not bring himself to go to Erestor. 

Just then, Léra appeared from another room, limping, her ears pinned to the sides of her head. She stood next to Glorfindel and wagged her tail slowly. She was tall enough now that his hand rested on her head without having to bend down.

“Watch over him,” Glorfindel whispered, and Léra whimpered quietly. Then, he walked out the front door, heading for the stables.

When he got there, he went to Asfaloth, his elven horse. “When he is ready, bear Erestor and bring him home.”

The white steed snorted and bobbed his head. He would always follow Glorfindel’s directions, and safely deliver anyone that the elf told him to carry.

“How does he know what you are saying?” asked a young voice.

Glorfindel turned to find Carys standing in the stables watching him ready the horses. He smiled, glad to see the girl once more before he left. “Did you not know? Asfaloth speaks elvish,” he said wittily.

Carys cocked her head and approached the white horse. She put her hand out, and Asfaloth tickled her palm with his whiskers. “I think you mean he understands elvish,” she said, and laughed when the horse blew a warm huff of breath on her hand.

“I stand corrected,” Glorfindel responded. “He seems to be quite fond on you. Asfaloth does not give many such a kind greeting.”

“Why are you leaving?” Carys asked without hesitation. “Won’t you want to wait until Erestor can go with you?”

He didn’t want to try to explain the real reason for his departure, so he said the first thing that came to mind. “I have some business to attend to, something that cannot wait.” He started to move away from Asfaloth and go to Erestor’s mare, the horse he meant to return to Rivendell with, but Carys caught him off guard again when she spoke.

“I already know that Ella is only my half-sister,” she blurted out.

Glorfindel stopped and slowly turned back to the child. He furrowed his brow as he regarded her. She looked him straight in the eye without flinching. “Carys, were you eavesdropping on my conversation with your father?”

She kicked the hay on the stable floor, and looked down. “I saw that your bag was packed, and I wanted to know why you were going.”

Glorfindel took a seat on a bale of hay so that he could speak to her without towering above her. “It is much too complicated a situation for someone so young to try to understand, but I need to go and leave Erestor on his own for a while, at least until he can come back to Rivendell.” He patted the bale next to him, and Carys sat down. “So, are you going to tell me how you know about Ella?”

Carys shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I’ve always known. I didn’t love her any less because of it. In fact, I’ve always felt that I needed to protect her. Before we left Gondor, people started talking about Papa and Mama. I did my best to make sure Ella didn’t hear what they were saying. I wanted her to find out the truth from Papa.”

“That was courageous of you,” Glorfindel said.

“There’s something else,” Carys admitted. “Mama did not die at the hands of the orcs just because she did not get to the hiding place fast enough. There was time, but she chose to stay behind. My Granda says it’s because she sacrificed herself so the orcs would not look for us, but I know it was because she did not want to go on without Papa. I heard them argue the day that we left home and came to my Granda’s shop. I heard her admit the truth about Ella, and it confirmed what I already suspected. And in the days that followed, Mama was not herself. She was forlorn. She cried in the night when she thought Ella and I were asleep. She would whisper Papa’s name and pray that he would come to understand, but he never came to the shop looking for her. Then, the war started. I knew Papa would be gone to fight. I had hoped that he would come for us then, but deep down I knew his ranking would take him onto the battlefield. And then the orcs came, and we hid with Granda, and Mama closed the hatch and stayed above. I saw her face as she looked at me for the last time. It looked a lot like yours looks now.”

“Carys–” Glorfindel started to say, but she stopped him.

“No matter what happened in the past, Mama loved my father, and it destroyed her when she left, so much so that she didn’t want to go on living. And now Papa regrets everything and blames himself. I know you love Erestor, and he loves you too. Don’t make the same mistake that my father did. My mother made a poor decision, but Ella was the good that came from it. There will be something good for you and Erestor, too. Forgive him, Lord Glorfindel. That’s all.”

Glorfindel took the girl’s chin in his fingers, and tilted her head so that their eyes met. “You are wise beyond your young years,” he smiled.

“I just know what I see, because I’ve seen it before.” Carys left the stable and went back to the house, leaving Glorfindel alone with his thoughts.

He took his pack and his sword, and hid them at the back of the stable, behind stacked hay bales, and decided to roam the city for a while. It would be two days before he went back to the doctor’s house.


	7. Chapter 7

Glorfindel entered the house, and stopped in the front foyer. Straight ahead, the hall led to the patient rooms. To the left, led to the main part of the house. He couldn’t decide which way to go, so he just stood there with his feet glued to the floor. The air smelled like someone had made fresh strawberry jam, and the scent of biscuits were just beginning to purl through his senses. Upstairs, where the bedrooms were, he heard the pounding of feet and giggles coming from the girl’s room, and the occasional bark from Léra. She seemed content with the doctor and his family. Glorfindel was glad he fetched her from Arwel, the man who found Erestor and treated the wounded dog.

He glanced again down the hall in front of him, and strained his ears to pick up any sound, but it was quiet. Fin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was time to face conflict and make his decision. The two days he’d spent wandering around Bree had only been a trace helpful to his damaged soul. Without someone to talk to, his thoughts were difficult to decipher. And there was no one to talk to about any of this besides the one whom it concerned.

Feet trampled down the stairs, sounding like a tiny army of soldiers, and Ella and Carys appeared with Léra at their heels.

“Glorfindel! You’re back!” Ella called with joy as she came skipping towards him. She threw her arms around his waist and hugged him.

He ruffled her blond hair and smiled at the child. “Well now, I can’t say I’ve ever been greeted with such enthusiasm.”

She released the elf and patted Léra’s head, the dog standing next to her almost as tall as Ella. “We took good care of her while you were away, and we made sure to give her lots of food and attention.” Léra licked Glorfindel’s hand and whimpered in greeting, wagging her tail.

“Why don’t you take her outside?” Carys asked of Ella. “It’s been a while, and you know how she gets after we play with her.”

“Alright,” Ella said without argument. “Come, Léra,” she commanded, and the large dog followed the girl out the front door.

When they were gone, Carys approached Glorfindel and hugged him tightly. He got the feeling she wanted to greet him in private, or she wouldn’t have displayed her emotions as she did. “I’m glad you came back,” she whispered against his tunic.

Glorfindel got down on one knee so that Carys was now taller than him. He brushed a stray hair from her face and smiled. “Someone gave me some sound advice, and I took it to heart.” At that, she seemed to blush, but only slightly.

Carys looked down the hallway. “Papa’s with him, checking his wounds. He says they started healing again, the same day that you left. He’s not worried about infection anymore.”

“That is good, very good,” Fin replied. “And what about your sister? Did the nightmares return?”

“Actually, no,” Carys said with astonishment. “Léra sleeps on the floor by our bedroom door. Ella feels certain that nothing will get past her, and the nightmares have stopped.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Glorfindel got back to his feet and gazed down the hallway again.

“He’s been miserable since you left, and not from the wounds. Will you speak to him now?”

“Yes,” Glorfindel said, his voice distant. “It is time.”

Carys wasn’t sure what it was time for, to reconcile or go their separate ways. She hoped for the former. She liked Glorfindel tremendously, and she wanted to see him happy.

Glorfindel wrapped his fingers around the door handle and froze. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen when he went inside. The feeling of betrayal was still new, and he was afraid that looking at Erestor would conjure up images of him with Lastar. How could he ever feel secure in their relationship when Lastar’s apparition would always hover near, at least in Glorfindel’s mind?

He’d met danger face to face, killed more orcs and goblins than years he’d lived, slayed a Balrog, and none of those things were as difficult as turning the knob in his hand. He didn’t want to hate Erestor, but he was afraid that’s all he would feel when he saw him. He wouldn’t know until he did, and he opened the door.

Inside, Glorfindel found Madock sitting in the chair next to the bed. He focused on the doctor, trying with all his might not to look at the one lying in the bed. Madock looked surprised to see Fin, and he stood to offer the elf his seat. Glorfindel hesitated, staring at the chair. He couldn’t seem to make his legs work, except to dash back through the door he just entered. He stayed himself though, and concentrated on the chair, nothing else. Madock moved towards him, clapped a strong warrior hand on the elf’s shoulder in greeting and left. Glorfindel wished he hadn’t gone. He didn’t want to be alone with Erestor just yet, but he knew that they must.

He forced his eyes to look to the bed, but no further than the end of it, where he could safely look at the sheets. Then they traveled cautiously up the bed, discovering the shape of the elf that laid beneath them, and he realized that Erestor was laying on his side, facing away from the chair. Strands of ebony hair spilled over his pillow, and Glorfindel was reminded of the mornings he would awake to face his lover. After all, Erestor’s sleeping form had always brought him comfort and joy to look at.

Glorfindel quietly sat in the chair, his eyes never leaving the sleeping form, always looking for movement like an animal ready to dart away. He watched Erestor’s side slowly rise and fall; he was in a deep sleep. Fin began to relax, if only a little. It felt like it used to, when he would wake early and watch Erestor as he slept. His fingers itched to hold charcoal and parchment, to sketch the innocence that only sleep revealed. Fin feared that he wouldn’t be able to capture this anymore. Could he still draw Erestor the way he’d always seen him, or would the eyes reflect things from the past, things Fin wished never happened? And then he realized that, just like himself, Erestor could not continue to live with the secret and the guilt. Glorfindel knew this feeling well, for he’d lived like that ever since his re-embodiment, regretting the unfinished business left behind in Gondolin. He’d finally found closure a year ago, when Astarion was avenged and spared further torture. Glorfindel had been the one to deliver the mercy of death, something he should have done millennia ago. And on that very day, Erestor began his journey of secrecy and guilt. That’s what angered him most. They’d lived a year of ignorance. Was there really any difference between telling multiple lies and keeping something secret?

Glorfindel found himself trying to justify it all. Part of him wanted to give Erestor the benefit of doubt. Part of him wanted to make Erestor suffer. He glanced at the back of Erestor’s neck, and the bandages that still covered the bite marks left by the wolves. Perhaps he’d already suffered. And then there was this vision of Lastar and a message from the Doomsman. Glorfindel felt he knew him better than others, and Námo did not send word to anyone unless it was of utmost importance. This meant that Erestor had been very close to death, his soul already preparing for its journey. Lastar’s role would have been to intercept before Erestor reached the Halls. But why Lastar, he asked himself. Because it had to do with him, Glorfindel answered his own question. A price to pay, Erestor had said. To tell the truth, Glorfindel assumed. Erestor must tell the truth and spare his soul, or–

“The reoccurring wounds, the infection,” Glorfindel said aloud in a whisper so not to disturb Erestor’s sleep. “That’s why he confessed.”

How should he feel about that? If Erestor had never been injured, would he have ever told Glorfindel about his tryst with Lastar? Would he have continued to live the lie? Did he really have so little trust that he could not confess his mistake? Glorfindel thought about his reaction when Erestor finally told him. Anger, disappointment, fear, betrayal … he’d felt all these things. He’d asked why Erestor did this, but he hadn’t listened. It was just instinct to question him, and anger blocked his ears from hearing any reply. When the ringing in his head became too much to handle, Fin vanished without a word, leaving Erestor to wonder and suffer. He understood why Erestor had remained silent for the last year.

“I cast him away once before. I see that now, though I thought it was to protect him. He feared that I would do it again, and perhaps permanently this time,” Glorfindel told himself. “I guess Madock was right. We are both at fault … actions and reactions.”

He needed to test himself. He needed to look at Erestor and know he could do so without feeling anxiety or anger. He needed to know what he saw, and he could only do that through drawing. So, Glorfindel slipped out of the room and went to Madock’s study. He rifled through drawers until he found a small bit of used charcoal. There was no fresh parchment, but there were lots of books. He found one that had a blank page separating the title page from the contents in the first chapter, and ripped it from its binding. Erestor would have cringed at the sight of desecrating a book in such a barbarian manner. Fin could hear the complaints.

When he came back to the healing room, Erestor had stirred in his sleep, and was now lying on his other side, facing the chair. His arm was snaked beneath his pillow, his hand sticking out at the top. The other hand rest on the pillow in front of his face. His breathing hadn’t changed, still slow and deep. Glorfindel sat down with the book he’d torn the page from, and the blank sheet of paper on top of it. He took up the charcoal, prepared to begin drawing, and paused to study Erestor’s face. He waited and then … there is was, that heavy thump, thump of his heart beating. It was still there, thank the Valar. Despite everything that had happened, he still felt love.

* * *

Erestor awoke to the sound of light scratching, rapid and broken like a mouse making a new doorway through the floorboards. He had the illusion of having previously experienced this moment before, or at least the scratching seemed familiar. He wasn’t ready to open his eyes just yet. He wanted to test his injuries first. He did so by twisting his head from side to side, and lifting his arm away from his body. It hardly hurt now, and he wondered how long he’d been asleep.

The scratching stopped after he moved, and he opened his eyes and focused on the first thing he saw, Glorfindel. He was sitting in the chair, a book on his lap and something in his hand. His fingers were black. Had he been drawing?

“You’re here,” Erestor whispered. He didn’t expect to see Fin, not after the news he delivered. Part of him thought he’d never see the elf lord again, and he wouldn’t blame him for disappearing.

“Of course I’m here,” Glorfindel said. He stowed the paper inside the book and laid it on a small table. 

“For how long?” Erestor asked. He wasn’t sure what to expect from Glorfindel. He was not an easy elf to read.

“It depends,” Glorfindel said.

“On what?”

Glorfindel didn’t answer. He tilted his head to the side, looking at the bandages on Erestor’s arms. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Erestor answered tersely. He didn’t like the fact that Fin didn’t answer him.

“And your wounds?” Glorfindel asked.

“Healing.”

“Good.”

“Where have you been?” Erestor asked.

“About.”

Well, this conversation was going nowhere quick, Erestor thought. Since when did they ever make small talk? “Glorfindel, I just want to say–”

“Don’t,” Fin said with warning, knowing what Erestor was going to say. His voice softened when he realized he might have sounded a little harsh. “Not yet.” He didn’t want to hear apologies or explanations. He only wanted to be in the moment, alone with Erestor without any other thoughts. He needed closeness, and got up from the chair, approaching the bed.

As if Erestor read Fin’s thoughts, he moved to one side of the bed. Glorfindel hesitated, but he gave in and laid on the bed next to Erestor. At first his body was tense and stiff as a wooden plank. Fin laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. Erestor mimicked his body language, afraid to touch Glorfindel, afraid to move. Amazingly, Glorfindel rolled onto his side away from Erestor, but he pushed his back against him. Erestor moved onto his side and spooned against Glorfindel. After a few tense and silent moments, Glorfindel reached his hand back and took Erestor’s wrist, bringing his arm across his own hip. Erestor smiled at the gesture, and gathered Glorfindel closer to him. They had both missed the closeness, and it felt good to be in each other’s arms again. Neither one moved for a long while. They just enjoyed the warmth shared between their bodies, reacquainting with one another.

Erestor’s eyes scanned what he could see of Glorfindel’s form. He seemed so vulnerable right now. They both were, especially after everything that happened. The fact that Fin was here, lying next to him, was promising. Maybe they could move past this after all.

“I sold your horse,” Glorfindel said after almost a half hour of silence.

“Oh,” Erestor responded. He was actually glad. The old mare was not trustworthy, and now Erestor had reservations toward her. “That’s good.” He shifted behind Glorfindel nervously. “I, uh … I told Madock that he should keep Léra.”

“You did? Why? I thought you wanted her,” Glorfindel said with surprise.

“I don’t think I’m ready to be someone’s master. And besides, the girls love her, and she helps them with their nightmares. Léra will be much more useful here.”

“If you’re sure,” Glorfindel said. He rolled onto his back and glanced sideways at Erestor. “I’ll miss Léra.”

Erestor smiled to himself. “I will too, but I think it’s for the best.” He reached for a stray lock of Fin’s gilded hair and twirled it between his fingers. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Glorfindel answered. His voice lowered to a whisper. “I guess we never really discussed everything that happened between us.”

“No, we just picked up where we left off, but I think we needed to do that. We needed to get to somewhere familiar.”

Glorfindel turned on his side and faced Erestor, sharing the same pillow. Erestor’s hand snaked its way beneath it, his other resting on his side. Glorfindel stayed on his half of the small bed, though they were close enough that they breathed each other’s breath. His blue eyes looked everywhere but at Erestor’s hazel ones. He still could not do it, not until he said what should have been said a long time ago.

“I never told you why I turned you away,” Glorfindel started.

“I don’t need a reason,” Erestor said, but Fin’s finger touched his lips to silence him.

“When I came back from the dead, I knew a part of me was left behind in Gondolin. It was a part that I was not proud of, but it was still a piece of me, and I missed that. But I knew I was different. I knew there were things I needed to move on from, and that’s why certain feelings, certain memories were left behind. I lived that life for centuries. And then, when … Astarion came back, all those things that were abandoned in those tunnels in Gondolin escaped, breaking open the wall that had been put in place to protect me from myself. I suddenly remembered all the things I’d done, all the regret, the guilt, the fear and the cowardice. The proof that any of that ever existed was sitting in front of me, ruined and tortured, but still alive, and it was my fault. I knew what I needed to do to fix it, or I thought I did, but I couldn’t let you see that side me. So, I turned you away, not for lack of love, but to protect you. I thought I was doing the right thing, and I thought I could explain myself after it was all over, but I discovered that it would take more effort than I originally thought.” Glorfindel touched the bandage on Erestor’s arm. “Not unlike these bites, the deeper the wound, the longer and more difficult the healing. But these wounds went back millennia. I couldn’t drag you along into that open pit of guilt, for fear of changing the way you saw me. I couldn’t stand the thought of it, and I knew you wouldn’t go easily, so I did the only thing I knew to do. I cast you as far from me as I could, in hopes that you’d never come back for me.”

“Fool,” Erestor whispered, reaching out and touching the side of Glorfindel’s face.

“Yes, I was. And I realize that I was the reason that you went to Lastar.” Glorfindel finally looked into Erestor’s eyes, and was rewarded with the love that had always been there. “I chased you into his arms, and now I punish you for your decision. I had no right, and I am truly sorry, Meldanya.”

“Do you know the real reason I did what I did?” Erestor asked, though he didn’t wait for a reply. “It wasn’t to smite you. It wasn’t so that I could move on. It was because I was dying without your love. It was the most excruciating pain that I’d ever felt, and I just wanted it to be over. But a voice from somewhere deep within said it was a mistake to fade from grief, that it would only end my own suffering. But in doing so, I would create suffering of the same kind to the one who owned my soul. It meant that my death would cause you to experience the same pain that I could not bear. I couldn’t let that happen, but I couldn’t go on either. And then, there was Lastar, one last rope to grab onto before falling into the void. And I gave in to him. But … I did not love him. He loved me, and that knowledge was enough to stay alive, and muddle through the pain of losing you. In return, you would go on and never experience the same agony as I had.

“And then, everything turned around. My inner strength returned. The desolation I’d felt started to diminish, and I wanted you back. I could not give up without one last fight, for I loved you too much. I made the decision to confront you, to confront Astarion … to make you realize what exactly you were throwing away. So, I marched back to the prison house that same night with my mind set on getting you back. If it meant killing Astarion with my bare hands, then that’s what I would have done. I needed you as I had never needed anything or anyone. I knew that without you, life would be bitter, but with you, the journey would be sweet and fulfilling. And, even though there was much heartache and bloodshed, I accomplished my goal. I had you again. I was safely away from that never-ending void, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep from losing that, even if it meant keeping my secret and my guilt for what I shared with Lastar. It was all very confusing, but I buried it anyways, until recently.

“Close to death, and facing Mandos Halls, I was told that I must confess my wrongdoings. It was the only way to stay alive, to heal from my wounds, and to change my outcome, for I was meant to die by those wolves. But the Valar hadn’t foreseen our love, and if I died, you would follow, and we would be separated forever in death. My price for peace was to confess and trust that our love was strong enough to carry us past this, though I know that it remains yet to be seen.” Erestor closed his eyes, unable to look at his lover, afraid of what he might see.

Erestor felt Glorfindel’s hand cup his head, the long fingers twining in his hair, and a thumb tracing the outer edge of his ear. “You are right,” Glorfindel said. “We cannot resolve this quickly. We’ve both been wrong, and we’ve both done things we regret.”

Erestor opened his eyes, and Glorfindel was looking at him as if for the first time. His blue eyes were intense as they followed the course of Erestor’s brow, the bridge of his nose, across his cheekbone and along his jaw line, finally coming to rest on his lips. The elf lord moved closer until their bodies touched. Their lips were only a hair’s width away from each other when he whispered. “But with resolve or not, our souls cannot be separated.” And then he touched his lips to Erestor’s, kissing him delicately. “We will try though, and we will find a way to start again.”

It wasn’t what Erestor had hoped for, to rekindle what they’d once shared. He knew it would take time for them to learn to trust each other once more. At least Fin was willing. That had been Erestor’s biggest fear, and it had been put to rest. Glorfindel had come back to him, and that was as much as Erestor could have hoped for.

* * *

A few more days passed, and it was time to leave Bree and head back to Rivendell. Erestor’s wounds were mostly healed, the process sped up after his talk with Glorfindel. Námo had kept to his word. Vairë would rework her webbed tapestry. Perhaps there would be no end, and he would spend eternity with Glorfindel. It sure felt that way.

The two elves stood in the front foyer, saying their farewells to Madock and his daughters. Glorfindel got on one knee, and Ella jumped into his arms.

“Goodbye, Glorfindel,” she said, hugging him around his neck.

“Be good for your Papa, and keep to your studies,” Glorfindel said.

“I will.” Ella jumped down and went to her father.

Carys looked up at both elves and smiled. “I’m glad it all worked out.” She looked over at Léra, who stood next to Madock. “And thank you for letting her stay with us.”

“Are you sure about the dog?” Madock asked.

Glorfindel looked at Erestor for the answer. After all, it was originally his dog. Erestor smiled at Léra, and she crossed the room, wagging her tail. He patted her head and scratched behind her big floppy ear. “She will be much happier here. She’s home.”

Glorfindel stepped to Madock, and the two soldier’s grasped forearms. “If you need anything … anything at all, do not hesitate,” Glorfindel said.

“Same goes for me, Lord Glorfindel. You’ll always have a place to stay when you’re in the city.”

“I believe I’ll take you up on that offer. Bree has its charms, but its inns are lacking,” Glorfindel chortled.

Erestor came forward and clasped Madock’s shoulder. “Thank you seems not enough for all you’ve done.”

“Just fulfilling my oath as a doctor,” Madock replied modestly.

They all said their final farewells, and Glorfindel and Erestor were off to the stables. The stable hand had Glorfindel’s white horse, Asfaloth, ready and waiting as he requested. Erestor paused before mounting. He looked slightly embarrassed, and Glorfindel gave him a wondering look.

“I haven’t ridden double back on a horse in a long time, not since I was very young. It just seems a little strange, two grown elves riding on one horse,” Erestor commented.

“I’ll let you sit in front if it will make you feel more masculine,” Glorfindel chaffed.

Erestor shot Fin a displeasing look. Oddly, Glorfindel took great comfort in the counselor’s bitter glare. Long had it been since Erestor behaved in his usual stuffy manner, and Fin missed that side of him. It already seemed like things were returning to normal, though it might be some time before Glorfindel could really forget what happened. It still pained him when he thought about Erestor with another elf. He needed to find a way to keep himself from harboring these hurtful thoughts or they would always creep up between them.

“I believe I will oblige, but not to feel more masculine,” Erestor complained. “After my last experience on a horse, I’d rather be where I feel in control.”

Glorfindel patted Asfaloth’s neck, and the horse quietly whinnied. “In all the years we have been together, Asfaloth has never once thrown me, and he will not do it to you either. But if it makes you feel better. . .”

With their riding arrangements made, the two elves mounted and started on their journey home, leaving Bree behind for now. They knew they’d be back again. Bree was a place they visited from time to time, and as Erestor thought about it, he gasped and looked back at the city gate.

“Damn, after all that happened, I forgot,” Erestor said disappointed. It was too late now. He didn’t feel like going back.

“What did you forget, Meldanya?” Glorfindel asked from behind.

“I forgot to go to the book store and speak with Oswin about–”

“About these?” Glorfindel interrupted, reaching into his tunic and retrieving a roll of parchments with a red satin ribbon tied around them. He handed it to Erestor.

“What’s this?” Erestor held it up to his eye as if able to see inside the paper tube.

“Copies of the documents that Léra destroyed.” Glorfindel smiled proudly.

Erestor looked over his shoulder. “You … entered a bookstore?”

Glorfindel knitted his brow. “Did you think I might instantaneously combust into flames or something?”

“No,” Erestor laughed. “I just didn’t expect you to visit Oswin, that’s all. But I’m glad you did. That was quite amiable of you. Thank you,” he said with sincerity. He never would have thought that after everything, Glorfindel would be so kind, or that he would remember in the first place. It gave Erestor hope that they would eventually get back to the way things used to be without the dark shadow of either of their mistakes hanging over their heads.

* * *

They rode for a good long while. It would be getting dark soon. They could ride through the night if they wanted to. Both elves and the horse were used to riding for long periods of time without a break. Glorfindel and Erestor had been silent for most of the day. It was unlike them to go for so long without something to talk about. There was still some discomfort between them that neither one knew how to settle.

“Do you mind if we take a bit of a detour?” Glorfindel asked, breaking the silence.

“Where are we going?” Erestor asked curiously.

“I know of a place not far from here, where there is a natural hot spring. I thought if you might be feeling a little stiff after riding all day, and so soon after your mishap, that we might take comfort in a hot bath.”

“That’s not a bad idea. And besides, we’re in no hurry to return home, are we?”

Glorfindel smiled contentedly. “Not at all.” He pointed to a path that led into a stand of trees. “Take us that way, and stay on the dirt path until you come to a large boulder. Then go to the right. It won’t be too far off the road.”

Erestor clicked his tongue and directed Asfaloth as Glorfindel told him. Soon they arrived at a secluded place where the ground was made of rock. They dismounted and set Asfaloth free to graze nearby. Glorfindel took their packs and Erestor took their bed rolls, and they walked along the stony path until they saw steam rising in the distance. Erestor figured that was the hot spring, and he started to look forward to a nice soak. The water in these types of springs was said to be full of minerals that helped with all kinds of ailments.

“Are you hungry?” Glorfindel asked.

“A little,” Erestor answered. “There’s some fruit in one of the bags, and a stone jar with stew that Madock made this morning.” They had other food, such as dried meat and lembas, but they would eat the perishable food first, since it wouldn’t last more than a day.

They came to the hot spring, hidden amongst some large rocks. The hard stone ground gave way to an unusual reddish orange dirt. Beyond that was a forest where Erestor was sure they’d find wood to make a fire. They already planned to spend the night here, and get back on the road for home first thing in the morning.

Soon enough, their bellies were satisfied and Glorfindel had gathered a pile of wood. The sun was setting, and Erestor got to work making a fire with his knife and some flint that he kept in his bag. Glorfindel was doing something where the red dirt was, but Erestor didn’t pay attention. He was thinking about how quiet they had been all day, only speaking when necessary. He knew Glorfindel still held some resentment, and Erestor couldn’t blame him. It would take time to settle into the normal pace of things, at least he hoped they could.

They sat next to the fire for a while, each elf staring into the flames, absorbed in their own thoughts. Erestor wished there was something he could say, something he could do to help ease them back to the comfortable peace that once flowed between them. Now, things felt forced. Erestor knew it must be Glorfindel’s lack of trust and his own pestering guilt.

Finally, Glorfindel jumped up from his place by the fire, and stood still, towering above Erestor. “I cannot stand this barrier between us any longer.”

“You feel it to then,” Erestor said. “I don’t know what else to say, and I’m afraid if I say anything at all, it might sweep us further apart.”

“I would not have come back to you if I couldn’t find it within myself to forgive you,” Glorfindel said. “But you are right. Something holds us apart.”

“I just want our old lives back, but I don’t know what to do,” Erestor admitted. He looked up at Glorfindel, so tall and solid, but so far from his reach. “What if things can never be that way again? What if the things I’ve done have cause our souls irreversible damage?” Erestor held his head in his hands. “I thought confessing would alleviate the guilt, but it has only made it worse. I won’t blame you if you want to go your own way when we get home. I don’t much want to be around myself either, though there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“That’s enough!” Glorfindel demanded. “Things happened and they can’t be unmade, but I still want you, Erestor. I don’t like this silence and hesitancy. We must both move on from this, accept that it happened, and make a new life together.”

“I don’t know how we can,” Erestor said, his voice no more than a whisper.

Glorfindel picked up a large piece of wood that was hollowed out where it had rotted. He looked at the red dirt, and then to the hot spring. The corner of his mouth twisted slyly, but he hid it from Erestor. He went to the dirt and scooped some into the makeshift wooden bowl, brought it back to the fire and set it down on a rock. “Where’s that stone jar?” he asked, and Erestor handed it to him. They had eaten all the stew and it was empty. Glorfindel cleaned it out with water from the hot spring. When he was satisfied with it, he filled the jar with clean warm water from the spring and brought it to the bowl of dirt. He added water to the dirt, making it into a reddish paste. When he was satisfied, he started undoing the buttons of his tunic.

“Take off your clothes,” he told Erestor, but the counselor cocked his head to the side and raised a cynical brow.

“What are you doing?”

“Just do as I say.” Glorfindel threw his tunic and shirt over a rock and began unlacing his leggings.

“Is this your answer for everything? Are you going to punish me like you did in the storeroom that time? Because if that is what you have in mind, I’ll have nothing to do with it,” Erestor complained.

By now, Glorfindel was completely naked, and the moon’s light helped accentuate his muscles, warming parts of Erestor that hadn’t been warmed in some time. Without saying a word, Glorfindel started undressing him.

“If you’re not going to–” Fin started to say, but Erestor slapped his hands away.

“I can undress myself,” he snapped.

“Then do so,” Fin ordered.

“What is the meaning of this, anyways?” Erestor asked. He was not giving in easily.

“Undress, and I will explain what we are about to do.”

Erestor knew that once Fin set his mind to something, there was no changing it. The elf lord was determined, so Erestor did as he was told, and started taking off his riding clothes. Glorfindel watched and explained.

“There was an ancient race of Northmen, whose descendants are now known as the Woodsmen of the North. They were great warriors, but they also held life in high respect. They fought for the good of their own people, but they were regretful in the fact that they must kill other men to protect their families and their land. They didn’t want war, but the surrounding tribes were a threat. They couldn’t live peacefully. There was always someone who wanted to conquer and control the other tribes. These Northmen did what they had to do. They fought bravely, and they won many times over, but it’s said that they never forgot a face. Every man that they killed became engraved upon their minds. Their guilt became too much, and it weakened them. But they found a way to help cleanse themselves of these acts of violence.”

By now, Erestor was naked and stood before Glorfindel. The elf lord took the wooden bowl and scooped red mud into his hand. He rubbed it over Erestor’s shoulder, down his chest and halfway down his arm. The mud felt warm and comforting, and Erestor stopped resisting whatever Fin planned on doing. “Did this have something to do with their ceremony?”

“It had everything to do with it,” Glorfindel continued as he spread more mud onto Erestor’s body. “You see, they gathered as a group, not unlike you and I are now, and they painted each other with this red mineral clay. They believed that the warm mud drew any toxins within the body, including guilt and remorse, to the surface of the skin, where it became absorbed by the clay. They covered themselves completely, pairing up with each other to make sure that not an inch of skin was left bare. It was believed that when the mud dried, the body was rid of the unwanted toxins.” Glorfindel shoved the bowl towards Erestor. “Go on, take some and do my back.”

As Glorfindel went on with this strange history, Erestor spread mud over Fin’s shoulders and back. He observed every muscle, taking his time about it. His mind wandered. Glorfindel’s body was a thing of masculine beauty, perfect in every sense of the word. The mud accentuated every ripple of the elf lord’s toned body. It was a very arousing ritual, and he wondered about this ancient race. Did any of them get as much joy out of it as he was at the moment?

Erestor covered the small of Glorfindel’s back, and then he started on the perfect round arse, making sure to do a thorough job of covering all the taut flesh. While Fin spoke and Erestor rubbed, the elf lord covered his own chest and arms.

“Done,” Erestor said, wishing he didn’t have to stop roaming his hands all over Glorfindel’s body.

“Your turn. Spin around,” Glorfindel said, and Erestor obeyed.

Now, Glorfindel was covering Erestor’s back, his strong hands traveling over shoulders, back and waist. Erestor felt Fin’s hands on his hips, and come around to the front, caressing his stomach. The counselor couldn’t help himself, and twitched to life from Glorfindel’s sensual ministrations, whether Fin meant to be seductive or not. Before long, they were entirely covered, and they stood back to look at each other.

“We look … the same, but for the color of our hair,” Erestor observed. The mud covered muscles and scars, half healed wounds and other differences.

Glorfindel came forward and kissed Erestor. Then he moved back and studied every part of the counselor’s body. “You look like some exotic beast. It is quite stimulating.”

Erestor noticed just how stimulated Fin was, and it created his own response as he stirred to action. Glorfindel watched him rise and smiled, mud cracking around his mouth. Erestor raised a brow to his lover. “Do you think any of the Northmen enjoyed this ceremony as much as the two of us seem to be at the moment?” he jostled.

“Actually, they looked down upon such carnal ideas. A man could be killed for his perverse desire for another man.”

“Really?” Erestor said with interest. “What a shame to feel remorse for killing your enemy, but not for your own tribesman just because of his sexual preference.”

Glorfindel came forward again, and pulled Erestor against him, their warm muddy bodies touching and trading heat. “We wouldn’t last a day amongst the Northmen.”

Erestor reached up and took a lock of Glorfindel’s hair, leaving a trace of mud. “We would have to hide our feelings, and run off somewhere secluded where we could be together, hoping never to get caught. We definitely could not live under the same roof, or it would raise suspicion.”

“We could claim that we were brothers who never married, too vain and arrogant to settle for just one woman,” Glorfindel said.

“Interesting concept. That might make a good story. To everyone else, they were brothers, but no one knew what happened once they were behind closed doors,” Erestor thought aloud. “What an awful way to live one’s life. I’m glad the elves have no reserves about that.”

“Erestor,” Glorfindel said dreamily, as though he hadn’t heard a thing Erestor had said. “I don’t want to have any reserves about us. I want us both to move past all that has happened. I said I forgave you and I meant it, but you must not carry the guilt any longer. We can’t change the past, only learn from our mistakes. Let’s make a new start, again. There’s nothing we do not know about each other anymore, is there?”

“You know everything now. I had feared that it would be too much, though. I crossed a line that most can never come back from. So tell me … why? Why are you so willing to forgive so easily, when I can hardly forgive myself?”

“Because I can’t change my feelings for you,” Glorfindel explained. “I was afraid also, until I looked into your eyes, and felt my heart pound in my chest. As mad as I might have been, it could never overpower my love for you.”

Erestor took Glorfindel by the neck and brought him close. “How is it you always know what to say?” He kissed Fin, letting go of the guilt and the past. Make a new start, they would, and it would begin now.

When they separated, Glorfindel glanced at the hot spring. “Ready to cleanse yourself?”

“At long last, yes.” Erestor followed Fin to the steaming pool amongst the rocks. They each stepped in and sucked air in through their teeth. The water was almost unbearably hot at first, but the body adjusted quickly. It felt wonderfully invigorating. Erestor could see the mud drifting from his skin and settling on the rocks that jetted out along the inside of the pool. The red clay was heavy, and it didn’t cloud the water, which stayed crystal clear.

The elves lowered themselves into the water inch by inch until they were up to their necks. Erestor could feel his wounds pulsate as they adjusted to the intrusive water, filled with healing minerals. It felt better than any soothing salve he’d ever used, and it wasn’t uncomfortable for long. Almost instantly, he felt as though he’d never been injured. Even his spine felt limber and not stiff from where he’d fallen on the rock in the creek. He closed his eyes and imagined what the Northmen must have thought about as they let the visions of their enemies sink along with the mud. He suddenly conjured the vision of Lastar and the waterfall, of the night they’d spent together when Erestor had lost all hope of ever being with Glorfindel again. He took a deep breath, and when he let it out, the memory went with it, falling from him with what mud still clung to his skin. The smell of iron and earth rose in the steam, and so did a vision of Lastar, back to the Halls of Waiting, floating upwards and evaporating in the sky.

A pair of strong arms grasped Erestor by the waist, and Glorfindel was pulling him in. Erestor let go of everything that had once stood between them. For the first time in a year, he felt truly free, his soul no longer held captive by guilt. Glorfindel still loved him, and as it turned out, that had never changed.

Erestor surrendered his body to his lover as they made love in the healing waters. The world fell away, and it was just the two of them, the only lovers left on earth. This place would forever belong to them. It would become a new memory, the one that crushed the old memory of the waterfall and all that happened between them so long ago. Erestor felt as though he and Glorfindel had been reborn into a new world, this one without struggle, without remorse. There was only amity and love in this place, a future full of hope. The past now lay at the bottom of the hot spring where it would go back into the earth and stay buried. What he and Glorfindel shared was so massive, so extreme that there was no room for past faults or regret.

Together they were stronger than anything that tried to tear them apart. Together, they were whole, one being, one soul, one heart, for all eternity.

\--The End--


End file.
